Never thought it'd come to this,
But there you were sleeping in your clothes.
In bed with your arithmetic,
Your hair had grown so long in your repose.
There among the broken glass
Were annuals and little paper birds
Faded in the sunlight of the million ways
That I can't find the words
It's alright. It's alright.
The days all run together in an angry pack,
And now they're catching up.
I finally got your letter,
And your punctuation hit me like a truck.
She'll be coming down the mountain in a minute now
To take us underground.
To infiltrate the borders
And pray to Jesus
When the devil's not around.
It's alright. It's alright.
We've got all night.
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