hey brother can you spare a dime
skin and bones that's melting in a backwards way to grow
out of heart and out of mind
snd kiss me in the rearview when you go

dying at twenty-three, i'm trying on my apathy
with a tired conversation floating in this ether sky
tried again too many times, and doesn't it get worse
sit and stare

seems like we're running out of dimes
bodies that we burn as fuel, irreversible decline
pocket lint and turpentine
warm my insides, wash these ashes from my eyes
death with an attitude, i'm putting on my sunday suit
tired as a conversation held one too many times
a year or two or three or ten or twenty more
waiting

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