Destination

Hello, stranger, you remind me of someone
A jangling lust pouncing on a sliver of a dusty pool of light
Your fire’s hue is a maraschino cherry
A room-temperature eye backlit by the bar
Your tongue, a chewed straw
You’re all period blood and soundcheck blues
Both armpits ripped and a lucky horseshoe pinball bruise

You’re not quite in proportion
So you’ve stayed in motion
Ever since your longing outgrew you
Stepping and re-stepping until it is a run
Over and over on the same platform from where you begun
Like someday this one-horse town will pull itself out of the station
Just to follow you around, you’re the real destination

On a boomerang counter, you crash the keys
Coffee, please
A word of advice from here in the daylight
Stay off the high road, it’s a sneering code
A lazy border boundary to I don’t wanna know
And we never will
Trash like us, we can’t even spell
But we’re impossible to kill
We just self-destruct
Closing time never comes
Closing time never comes

You love boys and guitars and girls and trucks
The way you move fills me with envy and wonder
You somehow live free of men’s eyes
Even with a bell on your collar, they don’t find or define you
You slip that noose in an arc so whip-sleek and steady
You fill me with envy and wonder already!
Somewhere between saying and screaming, you chime!

Oh I, I'm gonna live a real life
With blood and dirt and the subway for dessert
'Cause there’s a feeling I’ve never met
And if it’s gonna eat me alive or use me for its fuse
I might as well walk it home in time for tomorrow
I might as well walk it home in time for tomorrow

Most of all, I love you because you don’t pretend it doesn’t hurt
Waiting for the world to catch up and see you for your worth
As more than just a neutral tarp to compliment the gleam
Of some glossy martyr’s meat
As a contrast high, a graphic feast
Your compact in the gutter mingling with the slurry
Of cigarettes and needles
As more than a housewife, a has-been, or just somebody’s lover
A housewife, a has-been, or just somebody’s lover
A housewife, a has-been, or just somebody’s lover

Closing time never comes
Closing time never comes
Oh I, I wanna live a real life
With blood and dirt and the subway for dessert and more!
So let’s tattoo the morning paper to their driveways in our gore
There’s a feeling that I have never met
And if it eats us alive, we can still be on time for tomorrow