hammering heart

i suppose love lives in a dustbin behind the garden wall

you have to grovel on the ground and be pretty disgusting

to find it at all

and i suppose that it grows on you

standing there with no clothes on

and i suppose because there's beautiful girls in this town

i'll stay here till i've chosen one. i suppose life's like a hunt

really: the hounds have fun

until the fox gets bagged

and not one girl in this town will ever fall in love with me: they'll get dragged. her heart speaks to me; says the room the room the room

beneath her dress

and i suppose that it beats for me

like a hammering moon pulling tides through her chest

suppose she says that she owes me

all that she owns and all that she is

it seems to me i suppose that her heart's not enough

and her love is a swizz. so suppose love lives in a mansion

how the hell do i get over the wall?

and if my rope's not stretched the right tension

i won't cross this grand canyon at all. and i suppose that it grows like a tumor

spreads like a rumor

like the grass grows and inch every day

and i suppose that before i even know it

the tide will start flowing

and the drum beneath my jacket will say: you know you need her everyday

she is the moon and she showed me her face

she is the house and she opened the gates