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Subtle
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Day day day day... Day day day day... The next day The exact same nurse is standing with her back to me at every last Every last passing bus stop (x4) Only this time, what looks like a small stack of bills with bat wings Hovering just beside her They're bound together by a narrow wishbone, Beneath it rests a large [bowl full, bowl full of some] Indifferent fruit waxen looking still Atop a three quarter length corinthian column To the left, is a rather fit "right" woman's left leg, Buried thigh deep in the hallowed and wood-chip topped bus stop grounds The planted lady's leg looking clean shaven and hot Sweat beading up about its calf in the black avenue amplified sun An eye blue high heel jut in full bloom on its visible end And so you get off To find two suits arguing silent Before a double-parked and obviously unmarked cop car The blown-up head flesh of two big business men, a-hover above them A good foot or two of twine dangling from their tied off throats, Running down into their hollowed dress shirt collar mouths You over hear them mutter something serious about The second hand emotion And then comes something like semi-poetic directions A ways down commerce. then turn, dead straight into ashe And so you walk, Predicting all possible presents in ever to bits, and back From the bed to the bills you see nothing but Pit within (x10) So long gone (x8) From the bed to the bills you see nothing but pit within pit And an undeniable feeding [on you] (X5) From the bed to the bills you see nothing but pit within pit And more this A honey smothered hand gun all covered in ants, Trembles on a three quarter length corinthian column (X15)
Writer(s): Adam Drucker, Marton Dowers, Jeffrey Logan, Jordan Dalrymple, Alexander Wesley Kort, Dax Pierson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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