Six Toes — Brasstronaut

Your love is like an ancient sin our instincts often lie to dying dreams that stink of gin and offer no replies

The shapes that used to shift and move before your sleeping eyes have all but gone and disappeared into your stormy mind

Rest my child stop now

Rest my child the end is near

A crucified man can't be attached to anything else

Ernest we know you haven't done a bad thing but we won't tell no one

Clearly something changed cause in that way we met in crab park on that cold and that snowy december day so I said nothing and you said nothing and we decided to go our separate ways again