I let my hands get caught
In awful flame
Well I cannot play again
When do you ask me if
I am okay?
I see it when we dance

And make a pouters potrait
On the steps
Oh my, it is divine
But there's just one more question
I will ask
Is all this really mine?

Inside my head hell screams
It must be time this weather can't be right
We rode our horses to the outer edge
The crusty, dry divide

And we became the people
We had never meant to be
Those dying flames
The pieces we did not want to receive

And when you come home from your dinners
Darling, do you want to fight?
And when I cut the lines within my hands
Will you still want to cry?
And when your gal decides she's on her own
You'll rethink your romance
You never wanted careful
Anyway
You're taking down the fence

But when you come into the kitchen
I am waiting at the sink
My salty fingers run across the cupboard
Drenching it with skin

We are in love
The rare descendants
Of the faithless brats
Who bit their tongues
Who screamed instead
To scare their onward sons

And in the trees
They built their truth, their meaningless machines
We grew from beans
That froze beneath the snow
In late '16