"Flourescent Face"

I SWEAR

all the horses are in my hand
i let myself fall backwards

youre a broken blond
the spine is a mammal
in your eyes

bring the horses; theyre tired of standing, inspector

i dont wanna know, i've seen enough
u order me out, u tell the waiter no non for her

someone's in your motto bank landscape

youre not my father, we're not landscapes
my hand is on the bible and i swear
there's a whole lotta mammals in there

im working at a cafe but i think its kinkos
u dont give a shit, all of staurday is
in the front door

your wooden feet are still prime rib and u have one for me

i look at least as good as gold grass

i have your clipboard and your notes

someone likes the horses, the pens, the truth
not the whole truth, i can't put


donna kuhn 2005