so you dont get to be a saint
martyrs never last this long
guess i'll never be the one
to defeat deisre in a song
heres a marker, heres my naked skin
our exibit A
put a small X where i lost my way
all the actors broke their legs
and its too late to postpone
the producers getting high
and the audience went home
smile and take your awkward bow
turn and stumble off the stage
let the rain be your appluase
every ancor sooth your rage
squint with one eye
hum a showtune
wiat for your right to say
oh thats where you
must have lost your way
make a phone zing
helicopters squeil
hey are you ok?
search lights circle
where we lost our way
all our accidents went purposeful and fell
stripped of providence or any way to tell
well our intentions were intangible and sweet
sick with simple math and shy discoveries
piled upagainst irony and defeat
