Engine

When they stole that van In the front of my house There was a part of me tied to the engine Maybe I was the engine Dragging those boys through the desert Tumbleweeds in my hubcaps Tambourine shoved in the driveshaft New chords locked in the glove box Pull it all downstairs in the red-light bar On the carpeted stage, the ceiling comes down to my ballcap Outside, the air weighs a hundred pounds Bridesmaids pour out of the bar doors Everything black but the concrete You take the front seat, I'll try to drive It's hard enough singing when the hotel chokes on your memories Maybe let's watch the sopranos Maybe let's order in Chinese The laundry machine isn't breathing I write about Julie in a little white chair There's nothing for music, there's Styrofoam crushed in the garbage Someone says, "let's get a move on" "Aw man, I'm just gettin' my groove on" There's sleeping bags over their shoulders I thought you were crying You said you were through for good Nothing funny It always goes that way, this time San Francisco in the night time Pacing outside of the grocery store Saying, "I can't do this" We went in the woods It was just me and you The river was dry You pulled me down under the water Funny what makes you feel cared for Funny how well I remember What a relief to be grateful The blood leaks right out of my body Right out of my body At the family reunion, above ground pool There were uncles all over Nieces on edges of buildings Peering down into the party Barbecue breath on their pink tongues Lemonade stains on their tank tops We went away to the coatroom Lay still there under the window Called out the names of your brothers The truth is, I live to roll over