By ZoE
Date: 3 August 2000
Turn The key
Baby, when you turn the key
feel the land dancing under your engine
find these uncharted lands
begin and begin again to get these old feelings
I know I am finding myself
in the quarter machine
ring that the little boy
who promised to marry me
slipped in my hand
I am finding myself in the ways
I throw myself
off guard
turn the metal of my lighter
in the rain
Baby, I am seeing my own infidelities
ashamed at the way I tug sleeves of anyone
who can make me feel like a different person
It feels good
when your chugging down large stretches of road
to meet the person who will piece you together
and Baby, you top me off
with a cherry
you get this road fever
when blankets cannot cover
the etch marks
left on you by
an insignificant
but earthshattering other
turning you in frightening circles
I am falling in love
with you
whom I never knew
I keep waiting for the pretty Texas trajety
my irrelevant energy
my pack of cigarettes
waiting for me
I keep doing the childish thing
wanting to keep me a secret
waiting for one man
to tell me
I'm his dream girl
on a dirt road
that allows me to tie up my hair
let summer roar under my tounge
suck up the cold
\because I know it's hard
but baby, I swear
if you tried
I know you'd find a way
and I know all these words
all these accusations
you slung at me
are true
but they cannot drown out my love
for you
because I don't want to crack you open
and risk nothing being inside
dig for diamonds and find oysters hiding
I want to
it's true
make love to you
so I can get up and see the sun rising
get back to that childish place
that fetal place I once knew
Baby, when I drive my car
wrap my wounds up in pretty bandages
and run over the pretty shrubbary
I am seeing you
making your way back to me
keeping me shotgun
behind the trigger
Baby, see, if you could only trust me
maybe I could learn to trust myself
keep my eyes open
legs closed
hands on the wheel
instead of easing dirt
under each nail
I will cross busy avenues only
if it means I am coming back
to you
because I've beared my cross long enough
lips dry out
if they aren't kissed
and all I do is dream about you
keeping me comfortable
I keep my eyes on the road
flow through you as
some kind of reminder
that our love
is the kind
that burns on the stove
next to the bag of potatoes
our love is the kind that keeps me tied up...
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