Cinnamon Bread

Infinite Jest and cinnamon bread

Why don't you make yourself at home?

When you open up, you close me in

And cut me to the bone

Close as a kiss on the lip

To the southern tip

Until you're red in the face

Now you've got nothing to say

Now you've got nothing to say

Spring, summer, fall

You were standing tall

Winning all of your basketball games

You galloped on the piano keys

Like a Liberace fool

You hummed a little out of tune

And somehow you sounded cool

I can't lie

May, June, July

I was a good guy

Then you came over that day

Now I've got nothing to say

I must've left open the gate

Now the dog is running away

If this goes on forever

Could you ever keep me safe?

Like all the men you've loved

The women you've loved

You tell me we're in this together

When I know it's not the case

'Cause all the men you've loved

The women you've loved

They all got something to say

They all got something to say

It couldn't keep me away