One for the bourgeoisie
One for the row
The pace of the guillotine's quickening
Nothing can stop him for now

---

I'll be fine
Once I repatch these cables
To my spine
Thinning out like a skein of twine

In the time it took to write you this song
I could have crossed my last Rubicon
But the memories of fantasies of melodies
They strung me back along

I want out, out
Put me on a train anywhere South
I want out, all out
I'm prepared to drink a season of drought

I'll shake off
This dense desideratum
Like a slough
All hail to a mouth sewn shut!

And in the time it took to write you this song
I could have mapped a million ways home
All the memories and fantasies were fallacies
I'd missed it all along