colorsetbrushes; a 3 plant painting and broken bats; a three verse
i felt like a drunk etch a sketch;
all that rattling and shaking; erasing
and oh yeh, his orange lips.
he was tall too with amazing posture;
almost like a skyscraper
or maybe it was the chair and
passing scenery outside the window.
when he started talking
i closed my eyes and pretended
his limbs were falling off
and then i just thought about trains for a while;
all the coming and going
and sneaking up around the bends.
words by steve; broken bats