The window only opens so far in the room of the American Inn
You blew your smoke ring right up against the screen
You're paying the 200 fine if we get caught I'm threatening
You won't help
You're six foot four inches tall - this you told me in the car
Upon remembering this I feel an aching loneliness
That I suspect is taking over me like a plague
Throughout the night your leg shook
And I could feel your bronchitis-filled chest
Fears swirled around inside my head but the blue light and white sheets
Are too drained to speak it
And that painting above you in mountains of relief
But there's no relief
Ever
I don't know whose going to stop me in these tracks
I had moments of utter panic when we crossed the Minnesota river
On the drive back
I feel like and ashtray of plastic and black
Maybe you'll carry me across the room to another time and then I'll know
I'm stuffing words you dropped in my cigarette pack when I get home
They'll be a net
I'm always trying so hard you know I've heard it all said before
Now I'm in the mirror and I'm brushing my hair the moment
Before I open the door and come to you
I'm a traitor of futures for minutes and seconds
You're stretched out on the hotel bed
The news is on and the stories horrify and through it all
We turn each other on and the your fingertips come up through my hair
I was born with magical powers and
Now they're gone