Lay Low

My brains
Are blowing on the breeze
Over the trees
Where the hair in my lungs
Begins to freeze

And these trees
Don't want me here
But I have no fear
I'm buried up to my beard
In a shallow mirror

And I'm a reflection of myself
But I see no resemblance
Between the sun in my face
And the man in my mind
Is going blind;
The man in my mind
Is going blind

So I adjust my cape
And make my escape
Through the alleys of my mind;
I can't find the sunshine
But the moon
Is a perfect fit
I thrust a spoon
Into the infinite

And when the gravestone in your chest
Begins to glow
Lay low

The wind
Is a police car
Prowling around
Like a scowling wolf
Begging for change
But I'm not deranged
I've rearranged
The deck chairs in my jaw
Shipwrecked
And raw
You show me your claws
And drag me down
To hell
But it's just as well
We're not going very far
The Eastern Star
Ate my car

And when your cup of morning brimstone
Turns to snow
Lay low

©2014 Nathan Payne