The Listening Room

I'm sitting in a room
With empty bottles
A giant apple fills the space
The furniture is new
The doors are ancient
I'm horny and it's Sunday blues

Whatever hooks my inbetweens
Lonesome and art-addicted
Well if it's just to fill the holes
You could just come over

Hush, it's just a kiss
Upon your eyelids
Let's not do what we'll regret
You're not allowed to touch
Let's start an orgy
A non-romantic tenderness

Whatever crooks that which is lean
Dogmas of civil notions
Darling this life is but a dream
And that keeps me living

Eyes on the future
The prize is the rupture
Finding the balance
Meet me in the middle

Eyes on the future
The prize is the rupture
Breaking the patterns
Meet me in the middle