We’re in a hotel and you cannot find your shoes.
I’ve ordered coffee, just for you.
Plain white toast, for two.
“There isn’t one thing for yourself that you can do.
You’ve gotta get yourself together.
Gotta grow up soon.”
Get your camera, shoot this scene.
You tried to build a movie screen,
but bet it all on hopes and dreams.
I called the doctor about my spleen.
Show up to chemotherapy.
Kicked the coffee, eat my greens.
90 pounds are left of me.
You take the fat for kerosene.
The sadness stays, the lovers leave.
