I guess it is just the way you dress
But you do seem a bit obsessed with death
Or would you rather I just kept
all these things I think to myself instead
Your hand against the glass
And your reflection looking back
Is it real?
Is it still?
You’re in the wilderness
Living so far out in the sticks like this
And when the sunlight disappears
The stars like they’re looking back down here
There’s that shudder in your breath
I know how frightened you get
Is it real?
Is it still?
You always talk about these ghosts that you see
Asking me what I think it might mean
But I doubt if there’s much more to do
Than to close our eyes and try not to move
The same you and the same me
And our bad skin and our crooked teeth
Staring down at the top of houses
And blood clots and car crashes
Oh, I got such an ache in my head
I hate the way you talk under your breath
Wouldn’t you rather we just kept
All the rest of this left unsaid?
The air is so thick on my skin
Like it’s the only thing holding me in
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