| I draw a line in my life
|
| Singing this is the new way I behave now
|
| And actually live by the shape of that sound
|
| Circle in the back of my throat
|
| Spinning in my head and on my pillow
|
| Telling you things you don’t need to know
|
| Letting you know I trust you so much
|
| Then I’m looking at you through the lights
|
| A circle blinking in the tungsten
|
| Wondering how I seem to you
|
| Forgetting the words I’m singing for you
|
| Am I forgetting how it felt?
|
| You were sleeping with your rings on (rings on)
|
| Cardinal wings in the early morning
|
| Waking up to a metaphor forming
|
| I draw a line in my skin
|
| I’m pinning down inchoate meaning
|
| Mark me right below the ampersand
|
| Perforate line dry summer on my own land
|
| Then it circulates around town
|
| Do I double down because I’m stubborn?
|
| The needle on the phonographic sound
|
| You’re digging it up as soon as it’s drawn down
|
| Am I forgetting how it felt?
|
| If you sing along do I remember?
|
| Mark this feeling in the simplest shape
|
| Let me finally let it fall away
|
| Away |