And He Wants to Run Away With Me
And he says "Come with me We'll find somewhere nice and warm Our own island somewhere And we'll never be distressed again" Even as he says it I know he's thinking About hanging by his neck His soul dripping on my carpet Seeping from those shaking bones Oh come now, sweetie It's not so cold And he climbs my 17 flights And he knows my 17 thoughts And he dreams 17 more lies As he thinks about my body When will you ever dream of home? Oh come now, sweetie It's not so cold And he commits suicide on my doorstep again And he plans some more for Tahiti But this money, it seems, is non-existent And my wrist is hurting from writing again Why can't you just dream of home? Oh come now, sweetie It's not so cold Tahiti, Tahiti Where the fuck is Tahiti? Just agree that there's no hope And then we can go on with our nothing lives And pretend it's not so cold Written August 17th, 2001 © on Aug 17 2001 01:58 PM PST, Katrina Armour 0 • 1
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"And he says "Come with me..."