“boy, you’ve been staring some…
consumed in the science of the dark.”
i was following the light
from the crimson ghost on your arm.
she said “there must be someone sitting at home
waiting for you miserably.”
well there’s not,
but there was.
she was always down on me.
i used to think it was gravity…
now i’m pretty sure it’s self-esteem.
it still doesn’t bother me.
entirely in the silence of the dark
she said, “i don’t even think that
danzig is that cool anymore…”
so there she stood half naked
but not the half that gets men dreaming.
and she talked about love
and the current state of the scene:
“i heard it’s not as good as it used to be.
but we can always smoke out the room and see
how many shapes can we twist in the fog…
let’s stay up late talking about god
and those we’ve loved before
until we p*ss out and dream about war.”