Takes a dried up ball-point, lemon juice and water, keeps a diary invisibly, In the kitchen corner of a basement bachelor suite there's a certain search for certainty, you know we'll never see her hands touch her childhood home in photos that she took It's one more omission from a high school history book; how whole lives get knifed and pushed aside To whom it may concern
Take a broken bottle Take a rafter beam Take a needle and a tarnished spoon Or just words to kill off one more unheard statement of another dying afternoon She says she's leaving soon So so long to ten hour shifts and faking sympathies Farewell to piles of bills, unpayed utilities All rolled up and unfurled like a flag Wake up and pack your bag To whom it may concernThere's a bus that's leaving half an hour from now It won't take her where she really wants to go So she sits there with her luggage at her side leaving empty stations, leaving empty lives