Текст песни You're Trailing Yourself

The sputter and blink of the streetlamp Makes you taller, then shrinks you, then splits you in half So you're trailing yourself on the walk to the payphone Your pockets weighted down with quarters And the hope that no one's home You spray paint cinnamon on vines And key the cars you pass by Your ears burn and your voice don't sound right So you spend the next week playing weekend Rolling three-man alone in the dark in your kitchen Your apartment can't talk, so it's safe for your secrets All the stories you've invested with a masochist's menace and meaning Those tired tricks that you play To graft a life to your name And you know it's not yours, but for now it's okay You wake and cut your initials in cheap glass To mark a space for yourself when your time here has passed And you're drifted and done, trading danger for distance And all those rocks that rope your neck are finally nameless and weightless and faceless You'll strip the sting from those stains that bleed the life from your face And your cheeks'll burn red on that pure, perfect day