i'll love you, baby, but i know you don't understand. when the good lord made me, he made me sad. the best i've felt my whole life is when i was in your hands, but you deserve better than what i have to give.    we slept under your mother's quilt and drew pictures on paper bags, of birds we'd seen in tennessee the time we lost our map. but there's bears in the balcony in the drunken dream i had. they climbed up there; they came for me and left only the whiskey glass.    i'll love you, baby, but i know you don't understand. when the highway takes me, i ain't coming back. the best i've slept in a long time is when i was in your bed, but tonight i'll whisper 'goodbye' as you lay there.          if they send the wolves, i'll join the wolves and i'll return some day with my teeth sharper and my blood hotter. i'll be the dog by your grave with a hanging tongue and a ribcage and a chewed-up tail, howling with my last exhale. an army of lovers cannot fail.