Falling like a bad word 
from a good kid's mouth. 
Landing like the very first bad idea 
of the day. 
Feeling like a stiff drink, 
or two, or three, or four. 
Falling apart again.
Coming apart again. 
And it bugs her when I just can't hold her, 
she tells me that I can't control it. 
I guess that I'm just getting older, 
and she,
she's all by myself. 

I fell through the cracks, 
I've been falling since. 
I looked so relaxed,
they took down the nets. 
It's never too high, 
it's never too loud. 
It's never that bad, 
If you don't look down. 
You can get by, 
but the bullshit never ends. 
A good man's vices are his only friends. 
My epitaph reads like a postcard, 
And my silence is defined 
by that far away look in her eyes. 
But tonight, I'm Fine, 
I've got my wettest friend in hand, 
I've got my swaying soap-box stance, 
The gang's all here, 
it's whiskey and beer, 
it's vodka and song. 
Torn from the body of faith, 
my crystal-shard sister and I, 
Hear the hum the blood creates, 
crashing, crashing. 
And squatting in the thundering midst, 
the soul rattles perfect time. 
It loves the lights, the lines, the bitch. 
Crashing, crashing. 

She's a corrugated pristine chapel, 
with rat-trap, bedroom eyes. 
She's strictly hands off, 
and cow-lipped kisses. 
You'll go to bed stiff tonight 
She's caught in thirteen. 
Virginal wonder, 
stumbling lover, 
all thumbs and moans and heat, 
and holding back. 
But I'm to fine a fool to deflower you. 
I know what it's like to lack. 

If we're not falling fast enough, 
you can fatten the dosage up. 
You can cut with less emphasis, 
threaten the pharmacist, 
fire with more feeling, 
Or triple the feedings. 
And if nothing new goes away, 
just find us a new game to play. 
With nothing to lose, 
you can heighten the risk, 
we've got nothing to prove, 
We gave in to the sickness. 
And she says, 
"I could've saved Jesus from himself." 
Sarah rips wild through the sick winter sky, 
She's got blood on her hands and mud in her eyes, 
And her hair shines a diamond relief, 
she's as sane as you and me. 
You buried your god, 
we'll crucify ours in good time. 
You suffered scriptures and futures, 
we're living sutures and science. 

Tangled in the strings of a puppets faith, 
with a rorshach flower in your lapel. 
You look like hell, but you dance so well, 
You're bound to be the hero. 
It seems like everybody's shaking hands, 
We bow to the gracious host. 
Just follow your head to the end of the bed, 
We'll chase our nightmares home. 
You swore extinction at seventeen, 
You reached for the tactile numb. 
But it wasn't so much that you couldn't be touched. 
You just couldn't touch anyone else.

He get's off, 
she wipes the lust from her brow, 
she wipes his love from her leg and says, 
"I can't see how 
you came to be half of what you mean to me. 
I used to have my own opinions, 
clean flannel sheets, 
and my own things to do. 
I used to have a voice I saved 
for pathetic fools that fuck like you." 
It's a short, sharp shove 
from want to need, from lust to love. 
From fuck you, to fuck me, 
to everything I used to be. 
And it's a twisted trust, 
there is no want, 
there is no need, 
There is no love, 
there is no lust. 
It's just the two of us 
and a whole lot of hopeless. 
He gets up and lights the first sweet J 
of the first sick hour of his long dark day, 
And says, "Oh baby, 
I hate it when you talk that way." 
He says, "I think you think too much, 
all this bullshit about lust 
All this bullshit about love." 
He says, 
"I think you're just pissed off 
Because you didn't get to come." 
She says, "You're right." 

Erin is on her knees 
in the sack-cloth heat of latent afternoon. 
She sways still but slightly 
to the crazed cicadas moan. 
And I, I'm crawling inside her. 
I'm touching all her tightly coiled fears. 
Misguided messiah, 
I'm certain again 
In the mad disquiet of summertime, 
she stands a pureline quiver. 
And I draw the madness out. 
I draw the madness from her. 

That wasn't what I meant to say, 
it was only meant to hurt. 
The devil's at my head again 
and he's changing all the words. 
We'll laugh about it later, 
when we swear that nothing's changed. 
You'll wrap your arms around my waist, 
and we'll try to smile when you say, 
"It's okay." 
You're a fool to love a fool like me. 
You're a child to still believe 
That all the things you thought I was, 
are things I still could be. 
We'll swear we've got tomorrow, 
while we mourn for yesterday. 
You'll wrap your arms around my waste 
and you'll try to smile when I say, 
"It's okay."