sick at the heart

and I don’t know what to do about it

ferris wheel got pretty lights

I got rusted quarters in my pocket

and she stands at my right hand

like cotton candy

sick at the heart

 

I can’t look at the roses

I see them torn from the earth and bleeding

locust in the wheat field knows

from birth we are starved for bread and blessing

when the lights grow dim

we begin to learn our lesson

sick at the heart

 

nothing adds to one hundred

they should have used ray charles’ piano for his casket

all the drunken masters

smear sienna ochre and umber on canvas

the jug is cracked

the light is jagged and refracted

sick at the heart

 

sick at the heart

I said it once it was so easy I say it once again now

bang the pipes at midnight

why won’t the gods just let us sleep ah just keep the noise down

I write these words to cross them out

and forget ‘em

 

 

 

music and lyrics © Noah Zacharin