Back to the Night

I want to wake up
Without this fire
Not afraid of the light
Like some kinda vampire
Without all this blood
On my pillow case
There's still some in the sink
And a little on my face

So give me cool water
Straight from the tap
Give me cold bathroom tiles
Or a porcelain bath
And bring me hot coffee
Shelter me from the light
Give me safe passage
Back to the night

I've got more sense than money
But that ain't saying much
What I lack in a skill set
I make up for with luck
I've been down and out
I've tried to drink 'til I drown
I've been low as The Devil
I've been high as the clouds

I'm looking for something
At the end of each night
Like the end of a rainbow
That I'm never gonna find

This fire in my heart
Bleeds these tears on my face
So hold out your tongue
If you dare for a taste
These scars on my arms
Are just lines on a page
I ain't much of a story
But I'm never gonna change

Mother's Medicine

Your mother's got her medicine, but she's still got her temper
      and neither mix well with vodka.
Her beatings are extra vicious if you remind her of your existence
      so you been quiet since you were a toddler.
She likes to remind you, even though it's not true,
      of how you drove your dad away;
How he could never love you, how no one could ever love you,
      how you're her worst mistake.

Every day and night, this world, its people, life
      taunts you with its happiness.
On the day that you turned twelve, the store would finally sell
      you your own box of matches.
The flames would singe your arms, new blisters on old scars
      and you didn't even screw your face.
The pain shot through your blood, still you'd do it again because
      it's like some sort of escape.

Next birthday rolls around, you packed a bag and headed out
      teary-eyed & teenage runaway.
You cut through the park, went down the thistle path
      to the shorelines of the boat lake.
You were born in late november, so the water when you got there
      was colder than an old grave
But the same way the matches left your mind distracted,
      the water numbed the pain.
You went in to your waist and thought about being famous,
      it was surely gonna come;
The teams of reporters filming across the waters,
      interviewing everyone.

The pondweed round your legs, the heaviness of your dress
      starts to pull you under.
With the water to your head you took your final breath
      and thought about your mother;
You wished she could have loved you.

Scars

She says, "what's wrong with dying young and gloriously?"
he says, "it just wastes time that you could have spent with me"
and takes another big swig of his 6.5 from a can
She says, "i wanna make some noise when i go out"
he says, "who's gonna hear about it anyhow"
and as he says it this girl lets her fingertips slip from his hand

She thinks, who is he to take my hand
dig my nails into his hand
look deep into my eyes
and tell me he understands?

Those words went through her head like self-harm
she dug her nails deep in her wrist to try and keep herself calm
and the calmness came in through the holes that the blood came out
He didn't even have to lift up his head
to know her green eys were searching and her white teeth were red
as she held her new holes up against her open mouth

The night came on fast and the night came on cold
as the sun lost his breath and the moon took a hold
and when the moon takes hold there's a darkness that follows with
a silence that pushes the hurt around your veins
past the back of your eyes into the front of your brain
and makes you want to dig your nails even deeper in

A train of thought as smooth as a blade across a wrist
and that train left the station high on cocaine and drink
so they fucked for a while until they figured the wine had worn them out
She slept for a while then in the middle of the night
she gathered her few things, wrote him a sweet goodbye
then she punched him hard in the ear and kissed him harder on the mouth

She was thinking, man, it's time to go,
time for me to get away,
time to hit the open road
there's nothing 'round here for me anyway
except for him
and i can learn to love again
there's a hundred more that i could love as much
and a thousand more to love less
and who was he to love me
who was he to take care of me
who was he to sacrifice his own happiness
just to get me a little bit of happy
when i'd have been alright
if i had died
face-down on the bed that night
high on cocaine and wine
but he went and took that knife
and cut holes in hands that should have been mine
then he held them up bleeding to my beating chest
and looked deep into my eyes
and i saw the scars

If I owe you money, get in line...

My hands are worn down by this cage
And there's scars from the bars on my face
I'm trapped inside a debt I just can't pay
Most nights I pass out with my wrists at a blade
And it's bound to come one of these nights
You'll find me 'neath a scrounging pile of creditors and mites
If I owe you money, honey, get in line

She swears there's a baby on the way
And she's telling him it's his
But there's rumours on this whisky-stained night
That she don't even care whose it is
I swear I'll stand by her if it's mine
This might be what I need to get me back in line
If I owe you money, brother, get in line

When I'm out 'neath the stars I feel closer to God
But He ain't listening to me
I'm alright, I'm hard up but I'm fine,
And I know, out there, there are more hard up than me

So I'm sorry for the debts that I've made
For the borrowings I racked up that I promised you I'd pay
For all the times I got evicted and all the times you let me stay
I swear I'll get it back to you just give me a few more days
Mama, you've always been my lifeline
I swear I'll pay you back I just don't have it here this time
If I owe you money, Mama, get in line
It's breaking my heart!
But if I owe you money, Mama, get in line..

The Prettiest of Roses

I can see it in her eyes and I can feel it on her skin
She's sweating out the love and everything
She feels just like a paperboy dumping all his rounds
She feels just like a circus without the clowns
And I ain't supposed to know
But she's a blood-trail to a body in the snow

She sits there in my shirt putting too much make-up on
And crying to herself she wipes it off
Then she smiles and I smile too because her mirror won't smile back
But it's a smile any reflection would love to have
And I ain't supposed to know
But her tears are like the voices to her mime-show

She stands up on the bed and swings the light-bulb round and round
Laughing about vinyl dying out
Then eyeing-up my records she says, "Can we smash them, please?"
And waltzing over takes my favourite out its sleeve

When she's here it's like I'm here alone
Staring at streetlights from my window
And I ain't supposed to know
But there's broken records all over the road

The prettiest of roses killed by thorns
Strung-up by her own umbilical chord