Used to Beauty

The sun spilled over our knees 

Black cloth heated like coal

No sharp October breeze

Like back in the homes I’ve known 

Little power behind her tired eyes 

Four more hours till the sun died 

It was nothing 

I kept quiet and read the signs on the subway 

Like an overflowing ashtray

I’m best kept out of the wind 

Your hood against the wild sky

You’re so good at making me cry

Have we rid our grace for a shared insanity? 

A wild, wild place 

Some darkened sanctity 

Does it really feel like you’d hope it would feel?

Are you not knocked to your knees? 

I guess you’re so used to beauty 

It’s your playground, not mine 

But you’ve built me a shrine in the corner 

It gets me up in the mornings 

Knowing I’m a key piece of the work 

Do these evening clouds also make you sad?

I love you like I’m mad 

But your hood against the wild sky

You’re so good at making me cry

Have we rid our grace 

For a shared insanity? 

A wild, wild place

some darkened sanctity 

Does it really feel like you’d hope it would feel?

Are you not knocked to your knees? 

I guess you’re so used to beauty 

I’ll follow you, always 

I’m all kinds of dark when you’re around 

I don’t mind, I guess