Illinois, where the tracks get wide

Hiawatha and the sun is shining

Little Seven Up poured on stomach lining

It will settle down in time

Took the change jar from the entryway

While you were busy piling up your rage

Into a hill to climb to should at God

And rub your pink scars in his face

Baby, nothing’s fair we bet against the house

And you got drunk and said our love was doubt doubled down

Now the table’s turning over; the fall is falling through

I miss you like the old songs up loud the way we used to do

If I could still live inside your occupied mind

The week the dog went deaf I called for her all night

When I found her I stared into her big, dumb eyes and mouthed “everything’s all right”

Panic in the quiet; tinnitus chiming

Like the hangers in your closet banging wire on wire

Tinkling together like when you left the first time

Pacing room to empty room

Gathering all the clues you left for me to find

If I could still live inside your occupied mind