My brother finds comfort in calculators   He assigns every number a name   He believes that they add up to certainty   And he's upset with the fractions that remain   So I examine these maps with my eyes and at best   I can trace with my finger all the way   To that town where she went an attempt to forget   The cracks and the lines of my face   So Jetsabel cleaned out the closets for me   And she piled the boxes in the hall   Tomorrow when she wakes she'll come take them away   And they will never haunt me again   But it is still hard to sleep with the moon's heavy beams   I run barefoot to the backyard   Just to freeze in my place by the wraught-iron gate   Too afraid and ashamed to advance   Today I walked through the snow and found a field of headstones   They were in rows like the weeks on calendars   Where each box is a day that you can ever escape   Without pills for your poisonous sleep   These memories leak from these faucets that weep   Hot tears splash against the shower floor   And I stand in the steam as if inside a dream   I can see her again by the sink   From behind the bathroom mirror she pulls a thermometer   And placed it underneath my tongue   She said 'you are as pale as a sheet, you look awful my sweet   Lay down and wait for the sun'   So I stayed in that bed, she brought me water and read   Each night from a volume out loud   She whispered soft poetry   Her favorite was 'Annabel Lee'   And those words, like these drugs, comforted me   But the clocks kept waving their hands and she could not understand   Why my temperature would never drop   And although she promised with tears that she would always be here   I heard truth like the sounding sea   I said, 'My Arienette, oh how soon you forget   This house will never be your home   And you will leave in the fall when the trees become graves   And their colors lie dead in the grass'   Gold and green torture me like the lies I believe so easily   Oh my Jetsabel, look at this hell that I have made   If you want maybe drop by sometime, put some flowers on my grave   So that I will look beautiful in my silent sepulchre   Yeah, that's fine, throw those dresses away   I don't want anything of hers   For the moon never shines and the stars never rise   Without bringing me dreams   Haunted by the ghosts of those bright eyes