Got your hand up all in my shirt
And you know
Poetry is no place for a heart that's a whore
And
Summer comes and rain falls away
But the very next day
These are not my people, I should never have come
Far away, in some lovely way I hear your call
Whatever
Catch a feel or cop a ride
I won't be late,
My brother, my sister, my lover, my maker
Did someone here
These flowers are coming up wild
They're coming up, they're coming
This, this life
Is boring
This, this life
Right now is snoring
That's all
I'm not such a good lover
I'm a better talker
So when
Home no more home to me, whither must I wander?
Hunger
Left the pain before the dawn
She never thought it would
