Tuesday, December 1, 2009

a brief visitation

somewhere underneath lincoln's
head and underfoot we sound
a horn we chant the words
beneath a hill for days gone by
i've loved a universe, lived a lie.

when this bridge gets hard to hold
i hope your wallet's full.
and i hope one day we can burn the
days when we have to wish them down
until then, until then
i'll work it out. i'll work it out.

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