Joanie

February crackles within her armor

Joanie, do you envy her?

Even wrestling wildfires

She buries her heart in her footprints

Oh, oh

Joanie

Smoke humming down a log's bruised neck

The spruces they burn black but they'll sprout back up again

Would I show who I am, if I knew this world would end

Or would I snuff sparks as they catch?

Joan, your ghost, it roots from my stomach to my throat

Branches splinter through my lungs begging me please let this grow

Oh do you not tremble at the thought

That we could both go up in smoke?

Is it the first gasp, or final breath that hurts the most?

Is it that rise from fiery night to an indifferent dawn's cold

To heal new skin but be buried in the same old

Clothes?

Ooh

Joanie

Don't you wish God would rip from the seams?

Grip our hands, tell us what we should be

Stop these men from messing with the strings

From reducing God to a wood for burnings

Should I breathe smoke one day?

That's for Joan, that's for Joanie