horses in the meadow by the highway side
and a church of christ in a double-wide
clouds overhead are ghostly gray
it snowed a little but it didn't stay
red-winged blackbird on a mileage sign
ghost town gutted like a dried-up mine
stark faces in the windows of a speeding train
we love our blindness and we love our pain
standing by the lake sucking poison mist
lungs clenched tight like an angry fist
picking at sores in the hope they heal
hungry and harrowed and caught in the wheel
i feel these serpents of desire
ripple my skin like ropes of fire
was to be the you" in somebody's song