---

The day ends
and up and down
back and forth.
David's fallin'
off the wires,
walking with a knife's edge
rusting in his right hand
waiting for the night and
waiting for an eye
in the storm.
The fault line's greatest
closer to the bone.

I am drunk and sentimental
with killers quaking below my feet.

I am asleep for half the year
and half asleep while I am here
and wishing just to wake and stay and David
yes he knows the same.
He's waiting for a life
awake.

I am drunk and sentimental
with killers quaking below my feet.
Chicago turns to Sacramento.
Our houses fall to entropy.

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