i sleep on my back cause it's good for the spine   and coffin rehersal   i know a psychic who reads her own palms   and her findings are personal   she keeps her fists shut tight and she sleeps on her side,   well maybe she knows something i don't know      but i am still alive in love and   wide eyed in my time   not a mummy shrinking in its cloths   your cat clawed out my eyes while i's   distracted by your smile   and now my sockets sit like empty catcher's mitts waiting   and you ask me if there's anybody else that i'm dating      'anna and nathan'   anna, i'm patient      but your painted pony is fading   lost like a snakeskin in high grass   and out there thrashing like a pet bird caught in a jet stream, that's me   you count them blessings cause your net worth    oughta be less cream in your best dreams   but god put a song on my palm    that you can't read      i'm lucky to be under   this same sky that held   the exhale from your first breath   like a ring on a pillow of clouds   by you my tongue may stutter   but my gift heart screams clear and swells   to burst between the wrapped lengths   of its bowed ribbon cell      but i am still alive in love and   wide eyed in my time   not a mummy shinking in its cloths   there's a moth flock in my gut growing   a tug at my groin like tides trying to   pull moon towards them, i can't ignore them   and when we say your name our tongues catch flame   and you wonder why we ain't got nothing to say      but your painted pony is fading   lost like a snakeskin in high grass   and out there thrashing like a pet bird caught in a jet stream, that's me   you count them blessings cause your net worth    oughta be less cream in your best dreams   but god put a song on my palm    that you can't read   i'll be embalmed with it long before you'll see