It All Comes Back To Me
The Woodsmen
images of night in the glare of the afterlife
free cigarettes and sex at a bargain price
littered with dreams that you didnt remember
sold me your heart on the 9th of september
would that we were on the boat that we traveled
boneless, like cactus embedded in gravel
lost on the stairs where the heart never goes
in old wooden shoes as the submarine whistle blows
sing to me, muse- of a time barely new
caught up in frequency, stripped of all truth
take all my charms, squander them recklessley
let it all go away because it all come back to me
'i am drunk, but of such a draught that never can the influence fade'
one night we will descend into the region of mystery,
happy is he who can penetrate the hidden causes of things
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