The magazine needs flippin’ through   The calendar needs tearing too   The dry veins in the brown leaves start to cry      And you’ve got old man’s hands to weigh   Anniversaries to celebrate   Purple lips to part in a heart to ransack      Every step you take is writ   Down in a great book you envision   Somewhere off in the clouds where they know you’re pure      A sick shadow is hanging low   She holds your secret just to let it go   And you’ve never stabbed a villain in the back before      You’re a fearful man   Your hands shake   And your eyes dance along the landscape   Looking for the best next place to run   Into a ditch or a dead end   Through the alley or out on Main   To the epicenter or to the sun