I walked away from the firing squad
With a tip of my hat, I stayed quiet, I didn’t run
I held you in my mind’s eye just in case
One of their bullets should put out my lights
For good! It might’ve been good
I dreamt in books of drifting flesh
In marriage, I found there was some peace in bed
But all those dog years talking, your bullshit hawking
Really did a number on my head
Older creatures ejaculating
Flaky-faced knowers are contact tracing
The haphazard way I got mixed up with you
I walked away, ’cause I didn’t know what to say to you
Kept the rags on my face, ’cause I couldn’t stand the sight of you
It’s like a holiday in the same place
You crunch the numbers, I’ll say grace
I’ve got some blood on my hands, you got it all over your face
I’ve got some blood on my hands, you spilled it all over the place