Preview
This paint has been tasting of lead
& their chips will fall as they may,
but itīs not just my finish that is peeling,
& it is not alone fleeing these walls.
Well sooner of later this cold
itīs gonna break
so our hands will be warm again,
but all I want is not to need you now.
And sooner or later this code
itīs gonna break
& our words will be heard again,
but all I want are vows of silence now.
This turpentine chaserīs got kick
& the rag that itīs soaked in is rich.
The fumes aide the pace of my cleaning
& as soon as Iīm done I am gone.
The frightening facts
weīve been facing our backs
for so long now
are begging for eyes
to bear witness to lies
& indifference.
Now weīre saying aloud
the things weīve declared in our silence.
The new coats of paint will not reaquaint
broken hearts to broken homes.