I'm searching for ways to make this episode productive
Peeling off wallpaper, looking for clues
I found the picture that you drew in pencil on the plaster
On the day that we moved in, before we even had a mattress
You were sketching like a caveman; I was your hunter gatherer
I found cheap wine and chips from that place on the corner
I remember the rain and the way the windows rattled
I could feel your muscles tighten and I could feel your chest sink
And I could think about the future like it was a town that we could drive to
Now I only ever see the past as an island
We used to be mirrored but now we’re just reflections in static
We converse in the ten seconds it takes to forward through the adverts
Why should you care about my work when you know that I don’t?
I’m so tired of the face you pull when you say you’re tired of my jokes
I’m the picture that you took with no film left in the camera
I exist within the moment only to be lost forever
You used to call me creative, now you only ever call me anxious
And so it’s my muscles that tighten, and it’s my heart that sinks
Now when I think about the future it’s this basement that I’m locked in
And I might just risk the undertow and swim back to that island
I guess that makes me the bad guy, I guess that makes for a story
That you text to your friends when you want to ignore me
It’s so silent in this conversation I can hear the world turn
And you can hear my thoughts but somehow never a single word
So I’m searching for ways to make this episode productive
Peeling off wallpaper, looking for clues
I found the picture that you drew in pencil on the plaster
On the day that we moved in, before we even had a mattress
