in some empty stinging glass
or see your face like rosy sunshine
in the darkened crowd before the band.
They are swelling with emotion,
everyone around. "Stay with me"
we plead together, "don't want to be alone,"
but we can't pick up the telephone,
or stand the smell of what we are at home:
just ourselves. Our poor, tawdry
ass-dragging backwards little selves.
Sleeping on it, sleeping on it so,
sleeping with it, keeping with it
cause we can never let it go.
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