I'd try to paint the picture

but there's no color for the scent


Of two bodies roasting in

an early morning tent

Or the comfort and tension

of waking up with a new friend

But the sweat on the ground, it was grey.



So the sun pulls us up with a dirty white leash

I say you don't want to kiss me before I brush my teeth

You smile and you say that you disagree

And underneath the paving stones there's more fucking paving stones.



Who are you? And why do I know your face?

Why are you worried about being a hypocrite?

Your body and your mind are vast as outer space,

Your body and your mind are vast as outer space.



I won't mumble when I tell you the truth about me

And I won't run off when you tell me the truth about you.

And you'll grab my chin, force your eyes into mine,

And I'll get eaten by midges and forget my lines.



What did you just do? Touched my fears with scabby fingers.

Where'd you get that bruise? The pigs. Yeah, it figures.

There's a special place in hell for painters and folk singers

Who don't live in the world they make in art and songs.



Who are you? And why do I know your face?

Why worry about being a hypocrite?

Your body and your mind are vast as outer space,

Your body and your mind are vast as outer space.

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