Tigers on Trains – Washington State

So I could just lay here
And watch your skin turn into salt
And breathe deep in relief
As you start to evaporate

And I too will dry out
And thin until I am no more,
Just as God intended
And we will meet beneath the tongues of flame
Called by our Hebrew names

The white wind, your black lungs
A mass of gray inside your chest
A simple equation
To somehow set your head straight

A red box with ribbons
To house all of our troubles
A weak knee, an earthquake
The fact that I could never come out clean
At least that's how it seemed

So I'll pretend to understand,
While you bury me in sand
And build your house upon the shaking patch of earth
So I've been giving it a chance
With my head between my hands
But it is just too much to know that you are happier alone

A contract
A constant
A phrase that will not leave my mouth
The Garden of Eden
Hung up around your shoulders
So I could have waited out on an empty threshing floor
And quoted the Gospels
I guess it's better that I did not try
I just don't know why