Tell me it's fair, tell me it's certain
I play unaware as you close the curtain.

The heat from the light breaks the window and I'm still to blame.

Tell me you're wrong, tell me you're stupid
and we'll get along right before we lose it.

The tiniest fractures make patterns and Roads
that lead from your eardrums to all of your bone
And you follow them blindly
While I blindly resent the pain.

Awake on my odyssey...
I'm rinsing this off of me.

Im running in my dreams and I
Came to watch the pieces fly
And escape from my reality.

Asleep on my odyssey,
I'm fighting off probablies.
I wave my platinum visa card,
And everyone who can see my yard
Is pretending to smile at me...

And it startles me back awake.
© JoBeth Wray