Title Track

Left uninspired by the crust of railroad earth that touched

The lead to the pages of your manuscript.

I took my thumb off the concrete and saved up all my

Strength the hammer pillars for a picket fence.

It wasn't quite what it seemed: a lack of pleasantries

(My able body isn't what it used to be)

I must admit I was charmed by your advances:

Your advantage left me helplessly into you.

Talking how the group had begun to splinter and I could

Taste your lipstick on the filter...

I tried my best to keep my distance from your dress

But call-response overturns convictions every time.

My memory cannot recall: a wave of alcohol we shared

A cigarette and shaved the hours off.

Talking how the group had begun to splinter and I could

Taste your lipstick on the filter...

Lushing with hallway congregation, my best judgment

Signed its resignation

I rushed this. We moved too fast, tripped into

The guest room.

I rushed this. We moved too fast, tripped into

The guest room.