Cement Mixer

There are three wonderful pictures
Of your awful face
Stuck to the glass of my dresser

And if you call me
Because you want them back
I'll tear those suckers down
And put 'em in a mailsack

Hearts are never broken
Skin stays in one place
In dreams where the stairs
Go down at an angle

The walls are silly
And the lights are burning white sticks
I am cement
Turned back into water and mix

When you pour me
I'll be dry
Tonight