Andrea Gibson - Staircase lyrics

Across the water A train moves slow against the trees Like the bow of a lonely violin. At my side a child Is begging her mother for milk. The mother is a broken staircase with fresh paint. Someday, the daughter's dreams will fall through And I will turn my chest into an elevator Right before she tells me That she's claustrophobic. For now I say, ‘Listen to that train. It is full of milk.' The mother grabs the daughter by the sleeve, Pulls her down the beach. On the shore the daughter finds a pebble the color of a wedding gown, puts it in her mouth, crookeds her teeth, is no longer hungry. I dream I am a prince Or a knight in shining, removable armor. My love's last lover is a sword I keep falling on. I think too much when I kiss. If love did not exist, I would be so goddamn sane. My poems would be billboards. Suburbia would be enough. I would not have to gut myself to find my spine Crushed into powder And brushed on her cheekbones. My hair would not be a hummingbird's nest. My mind would not have to move so fast to rest. I would not be in North Carolina, Tearing flowers from the motel flowerpots, Searching for a love-me-not. I can drop like a guillotine On my own galloped chest. It is incredible what kind of mess I can make With a nine-hour drive and an unanswered text. Yes, that's me, Crying to the tollbooth man. I say, 'In the ghost town of our love There is a player piano Trying to prove it can make music Without being touched. My fingertips Miss her So much.' He hands me no change. Tells me there's a Laundromat down the highway That is also a bar. I could make a clean getaway. I could fall of the wagon and catch a freight train Right to officially, clinically insane. I could at the very least, wash my clothes, So I could for once in my life know, What it's like to have control of the spin cycle. What's it's like to know What the yarn knows of sweaters, you know, how to hold myself together. And love, I know, it is not s**y to make-out With someone who so constantly Has their foot in their mouth. But remember, I am also the one who told you, I want to feel you like the lifelines on the palms of Jesus When the nails went through. I want to make popcorn with you, with the lid off. Yes, that's s**y talk. Yes, I'm freaky. Yes, I heard the bartender say It is not holy water if it doesn't burn going down And you are hot Enough to keep me sober On a Saturday night on Bourbon Street. I told her, ‘You have a heart of gold. I am kneeling in your bloodstream Panning for the only thing that has ever felt like home.' If this drives me crazy, Make sure the straightjacket comes in purple, So Prince will sing her favorite song as I sleep. So that rifting guitar, is all she ever hears. A runaway train on every string. Her name on my mouth, And a falling star, that never once fell. We never fall. We always jump. We always Jump.