You expected my war diaries   But time ran out and I, I let you down   A small thanks note written in French is no shorthand for   "This thing gave me writer's cramp"      Another dream about shapeshifting   Well we move with such elegance, with such grace   With all our dignity just in place      Deer die with their eyes wide open, eyes wide open, eyes wide open   Deer die with their eyes wide open      Drawing tiny little pictures of skeletons   To get across the sense of impending doom   And the leaves like the artwork to "Major Leagues" look like dead foxes on the hard shoulder   And for some reason I think that I attributed this story   To the bypass of the town I hadn't visited   So goes the backing track of all the sighs we'd ever sighed      Deer die with their eyes wide open, eyes wide open, eyes wide open   Deer die with their eyes wide open      Drawing tiny little pictures of skeletons   To get across the sense of impending doom   And I am 17 pages through this notebook now   And there are little more than pictures of how I see you in an X-ray machine   That's more like a television screen   And you're in a rut, and I know that you know what I mean   And then the realisation hits that not even two gospel choirs could save us now      Turn up on your doorstep   Feeling like roadkill   Tasting like postage stamps   And when I touch you   You fold up like an envelope   With everything I ever wrote   Pouring out of your mouth.