Refuges.
<< 12:26 a.m. - Saturday, Apr. 15, 2006 >>
Don�t blow that shit in my face. Don�t.
Stings the eyes.
Coats the throat.
Changes how I see you.

I lost my perspective years ago.
Living like everyone else, attached.
Grounded.
And not feeling in love sometimes.

Will you just tell me who you are?
This creature that warms my bed.
Walks hours in the rain to visit me.
Hot boxes Rachael�s car.
Refuses to come over if it can�t smoke in my apartment.

I don�t know where that puts it.
You.
Whatever he calls himself.
I wish you had plans.
So we wouldn�t sink ourselves into the mud
and get lost.

I want to get out before it�s too late,
but I won�t be the one who lost faith first.
I want to say I hate you,
but I won�t be the one left behind still secretly loving.

Cut the circuits and turn off the lights.
Half of them are already broken and busted.
Or just replace the bulbs.
Renovate the place.

Cause my ladder is inadequate,
and I haven�t got any of the right tools.
Up to you.
Get a better ladder, baby.