Call me, and I will be your happy ghost
Call me, and cotton will come rolling out your mouth
Call me, and we will build a family
The cold, dark thing
Didn't he die, in a lake
In a pit or a plane or a place where he'd never get free from again?
Didn't we push and shout
And beat all the evil away into powder and medicine?
Our future is looking bright as teeth
Our future is looking bright as bedsheets
I hear you: I've made a couple major tweaks
I don't smoke now. I promise you that I will never die
I heard you, calling me with feathers out your teeth
The brown bird, the bright brown bird that broke the window
Didn't she stop, with the sound
With the coil of word on the tip of the tongue like a painted snake?
Didn't she choke? didn't she swim?
Didn't she drag herself out of the house and to just go dissolve again?
Our future is looking good as throats
Our future is looking good as clenching
When we were married all my hair fell out
When we were married