all our saucers have broke in this little rocket home where we live like full-grown ghosts of twelve-year-olds, and i'm waiting for you, love, i got my heart all set up like a tug-boat toy you drag along, a tug-boat toy you drag along.

last night when i undressed, i drew a lighthouse on my chest and said a prayer for it by morning to have sunken and for a place we could talk, some stoop or some parking lot and a couple cinder blocks to sit on.

your handwriting is an even mix of your parent's influence, i hope i see it again.

so i wait on the porch, hold this memory up like a torch and i think of the friend, draft a letter in my head. and her image clings like a cast to heal some fractured past, to heal my past.

Lyrics submitted by battaryacid

your handwriting (a porch song) song meanings
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