his story, my story, the same old story


her blue eyes and her blond hair rubbed up against me
and she tried to question me
bob dylan buzzed like a frig in the background
and my dad had all this history
my mom would pull a crab out of the sea and eat it, or thow it back it made no difference, yet we always had food on our plates and we always knew the history.

she said i need to change and i said "maybe you need to change"

i was just a boy
she was just a girl

i felt like human beings were being born out of my arms she felt like taking a piss
she kissed me on my neck and pulled a little too hard and i wanted to run away

sexy songs played and i shot guns into the sky i killed birds that i couldnt see and when they dropped to the earth their eyes were as black as mine

all this stuff we cant see
playing itself out

at least we have our history