Typhoon of 92

belong in doubt, stand over the house, row way out, move in the ship i'm on, i'm gonna run one down, in individual pieces, that rarely get better, the end has stung. would i lie, should i love it, you're going to look back, disbelieving and gutless, but i can't wait to carry out, what's always the hardest sound, proofreading what you wrote then said, going over and erasing it, with reason we'll stitch up my mouth, tie my arms back with ribbons to my tennis shoes (take my tennis shoes) (off)
there's a scare at night, repeated times, if you come that close you'll be arrested i teeter the ledge, swaying still, go back in time, meet me down over the hill, i want to sleep on the rocks, blending in, floods carry me away, begins to bury my lantern, in between breaths i crave it still, washed against the rocks.
they're coming up to clean me out, starting with the bad tasting mouth, proofreading what you wrote then said, going over and erasing it, your compliments, they tear me down, still always, it's the greatest sound,
no, i can never forget, this maybe a lot to look, i only want to change back, i never could've known