Epitaph

I'm blind, afraid

The colors of the sound like a shape

The feast of words you never could say

And I'm torn apart

In the sun, there is red

The epitaph of an old record player

The sweetness in the salt of her hair

And there's no decision

I knew a girl once

There were splinters from her thoughts

Unless you knew a girl

With kindness in her heart

You're a dark one

With a knack for pushing boys off a cliff

And the messy eyes of ink-splattered fits

And it's all found in a page

I need nothing more than my problems

Just let me know when you've found them

You've got mirth and I've got snow hands

Eyes fell and haven't come up since

Mary

Dare me, scare me

Oh, Mary

I know a place out beyond these pines

Where the sky falls down with the cumulus cries

A winter song for a January type

I could tame my heart, I could blind my eyes

Oh, the river is an organ and the meadow is a church

For a strange inclination that fortune is a curse

I'm a cryptic writer, I'm an ignorant fool

I'm a poor excuse for poetry, trying to play it cool

I'm just trying to play it cool

I need nothing more than my problems

Just let me know when you've found them

You've got tact and I've got bravado

I'm a ghost and you are a shadow

I need nothing more than my problems

Just let me know when you've found them

You've got mirth and I've got snow hands

Eyes fell and haven't come up since

Mary

Dare me, scare me

Oh, Mary