in between the puddles of the light
weigh your heart with the water of the vine
each splash is another tick of time
every hot breath's in the service of a lie
you won't catch me
scratching it
with a tumble on the line
scratching it
we do as we're able
crack wood, and roll across the table
give me a line that I can work with
if you can't read it, than you don't deserve it
dawn's quieter than the middle of the night
the only time to sleep's with the coming of the light
when that rip pulls you out to sea
and the current severs you from me
you are a caution
don't ask him to stay
with the tumble on the line
there is nothing left
but for him to say
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