It is Saturday night in Elgin, Texas and I have mastered
the art of standing still while spinning violently
I won’t blame the moonshine because there’s no need
no need to name the hands that take you from tenderness
Besides it wasn’t like that. See, what I did was soak what
sunk me in matrimony between the people that let me go
Without ceremony. I said a few words about how I’m tired
of loving the leaving, left some sentences in the form of dead skin.
The wind picked me up like a good friend, said things end
and set me like down as if it was the beginning, again.
I was so drunk I stopped recreating the past and didn’t even get sad.
I was so drunk I stopped recreating the past and just looked at what I had.
Looked at the night sky pinched by starlight and stillness and
couldn’t help but see myself similar. Hasn’t this body always been
Strewn about with bits of light? Skin so thick, it has to be borrowed
from the night. Heart so bright, has to be all alone with all that light.
I can’t blame the moonshine cause now it all makes sense. The stillness.
The spinning. Oh, I can’t blame the moonshine when I am the full moon