Early morning, it’s easy to be here
Under marquee moon, my head is full of clouds
Like an old joke you never understood
I’ve heard the lines over and over
The delivery’s the same, the logic hazy and gray
Between me and the bedsheets, drunk asleep
Backdoor to a public display
I left you there
Sitting down on the curb of a sidewalk
Early morning air
I should have stayed on a narrow decline
Led myself to our room
My hands around the steering wheel
AM radio hums but I can’t hear
It’s all the same, as I begin to drown
My heads a weight, an anchor digging the ground
I lost myself, in a bottle’s mouth
One foot in front of the other, if you please
But I’ve got nothing to say
“2AM, I’m okay,
Will you come see what I’ve done?
Made a mess of a good thing going
That hornets nest looked boring
Maybe this is a blessing,
And everything is as it should be
A painting of normal release
Empty barstools and slurring speech.”
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