Why? - Fatalist Palmistry lyrics

I sleep on my back Cause it's good for the spine And coffin rehearsal. I know a psychic who Reads her own palm and Her findings are personal. She keeps her fists shut tight And she sleeps on her side. Well maybe she knows Something I don't know. But I am still alive, in love, And wide-eyed in my time; Not a mummy shrinking in its cloths. Your cat clawed out my eyes While I was distracted by your smile. And now my sockets sit Like empty catcher's mitts waiting. And you ask me is there Anybody else that I'm dating. ‘Anna & Nathan' Anna, I'm patient, But your painted pony is fading, Lost like a snakeskin in high gra** And out there thrashing like a pet Bird caught in a jet stream, that's me. You counting blessings ‘cause Your net worth ought to be less Cream in your best dreams. But God put a song on my palm That you can't read I'm lucky to be under This same sky that held The exhale from your first breath Like a ring on a pillow of clouds But you my tongue may stutter But my gift heart screams clear and swells To burst between the wrapped lengths Of its baved ribbon cell. But I am still alive, in love, And wide-eyed in my time; Not a mummy shrinking in its cloths. There's a moth flock in my gut growing; A tug at my groin like tides trying To pull moon towards them, I can't ignore them. And when we say your name Our tongues catch flame. And you wonder why we ain't Got nothing to say. ‘Anna & Nathan' (At your house) Anna, I'm patient, (Embroidered on a kitchen towel.) But your painted pony is fading, Lost like a snakeskin in high gra**. And out there thrashing like a pet Bird caught in a jet-stream, that's me You're counting blessings ‘cause Your net worth ought to be Less cream in your best dreams. But God put a song on my palm That you can't read I'll be embalmed With it long before you'll see