The Republic Of Wolves
A Weather Vane (Acoustic)
All that time that you killed
Pulling smoke to your lungs
In a parking lot covered in green glass
And shimmering
The light on your face starts to darken and dissipate
The ghost was inside your mouth
Placing bets with your teeth
Forcing your voice out
Pushing your tongue up from underneath
And out past the fields we were racing the sun
You slipped away past the fog and the firelight
I saw the footsteps cut out of the ash
We traded names just to see if the colors would change
And they did
I got sick of the pull
You just sputtered and sank
You were nothing
A curtain of sawdust
A weather vane
And don't try to skip past the part where you realize
But I lied my way out of this one
And you lied your way to a ditch
And I fought myself just to stay up
Out of your street-walking, tongue-talking sleep
How it consumed you
And eventually me