Song for America

The California air
Your nightgown on the stairs
I remember every night
Scenes from home in the Quiet Room

How long have I been gone
Did winter kill the lawn
And all those polaroids you sent
Are on the wall in the Quiet Room

They’ve got this place
Where they’ve been keeping me
Where I can’t hurt myself
I can’t get my wrists to bleed
Just don’t know why
Suicide appeals to me

The Quiet Room
Is sterilized and white
It’s like a tomb
With just a moth stained naked light

Plastic forks and spoon
No laces in my shoes
They all know what I tried to do
Outside the Quiet Room

This quiet place
It ain’t so new to me
It’s haunted atmosphere
Has heard so many scream
My home from home
My twilight zone
My strangest dream

My confidant
I have confessed my life
The Quiet Room
Knows more about me than my wife

They’ve got this place
Where they’ve been keeping me
Where I can’t hurt myself
I just can’t
I just can’t get these damn wrists to bleed

A mattress on the floor
No handles on the door
I really need nothing more
I’m alone

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2 Responses to Song for America

  1. regsipco says:

    And, behold, a Whhhhhite Horse:

  2. Clyde says:

    I’m an atheist.

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