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Tigers on Trains
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In the Atlas Cedars
Some kind of poison is hiding up my sleeves
Don't recall how it got there
I had a long stay up with the Jinn and orchid trees,
I might have lost my head
Buried my clothes in the coriander
Cut out my tongue to correct my grammar
offended all of the grieving mothers
Couldn't contend with the miscreant I was.
You were apostate, just caving in and out of faith
And saving your receipts
But is it so wrong that you cannot find your fatal flaw?
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Well it keeps you up all night.
You're wrapped so tight in the Atlas cedars,
You're overdrawn and uncelebrated
Caught up in dreams that you can't remember
Stuck in the day Saint Sophia left you waiting
On a corner with your hands full of thorns.
I found the floor plan to what i once thought had no shape
But I still think it's bullshit
And I found my senses encased in old acanthus leaves,
They're better off without me.
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