we'll correct collegiate mistakes
a shower of formal ideals
completely soused
the hearts on our sleeves,
as they drowned we could hear them screaming
"oh, what a tragic way to see our final days."
I attempt to talk up the town:
"the answers are in the arches of the 20th century towers
and in comfortable cars in motion."
and yet it still remains, this incessent refrain:
"you're just like the rest. your restlessness makes you lazy."
keeping busy is just wasting time
and i've wasted what little he gave me
(all around)
i know the conscious choice was crystal clear,
to clean the slate of former years
when i sang softly in your ear and tied these arms around you.
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