8 december

recording is forever but the paper here is thin as the ground we stand on / we land on our own toothy grins while the spindle leans gold and the car won't start / breaking hearts and taking names - the leaving always starts the same - keep the music playing loud enough to mask the door / as we store up opportunities the closet shelves go dark - parking under umbrellas and parables of onions / while we make our beds of rain and while we keep our pockets full - ours is for the calendar, ours is for when less than two the numbers don't add down