Braille

Lyssna

She was lying on the floor and counting stretch marks.
She hadn't been a virgin and he hadn't been a god.
So she named the baby Elvis,
to make up for the royalty he lacked.

And from then on it was turpentine and patches,
from then on it was cold Campbell's from the can.
They were just two jerks playing with matches,
cause that's all they knew how to play

And it was raining cats and dogs out side of her window,
and she knew they were destined to become
sacred road kill on the way.
And she was listening to the sound of heavens shaking
thinking about puddles, puddles and mistakes

Cause it's been turpentine and patches.
It's been cold, cold Campbell's from the can.
And they were just two jerks playing with matches,
cause that's all they knew how to play.

Elvis never could carry a tune.
She thought about this irony as she stared back at the moon.
She was tracing the years with her fingers on her skin
saying why don't I begin again
with turpentine and patches
with cold Campbell's from the can,
after all I'm still a jerk playing with matches,
it's just that he's not around to play along.
I'm still an ass hole playing with candles,
blowing out my wishes blowing out my dreams,
just sitting here and trying to decipher
what's written in Braille upon my skin...