No forcefield
No headlights
I am fading in the dark
like a picture of the night
that’s pressed too far
past the outlines
It’s a mystery I brought
from another person’s life
I see three hooded guns
Is that thee, golden one?
You believed you were done
seeking omens about dying
but you go on
I can see you through the scrim
It’s a common language, shadow
Pass a little blue dream to me
Lying on your blanket, lit up by the screen
Do you hurt the furniture because it frightens you?
Are you imprisoned by some private absolute?
Is the shirt too black?
Send the message back
No big deal
No pay day
There’s a language I forgot
I am digging up the names
in the dirt road
jn the worst way
Tastes like iron on my tongue
Has it always been the same?
I see three hooded guns
Is that thee, golden one?
You believed you were done
seeking omens about dying
but you go on
You go on
