I've got the gawks and I am picking up your quirks You catch all but the gulls There's enough oil here to slick back our stray hairs forever
And your decay will wash away Lorraine, your rain has bleary eyes
Shelter is easy but it's home you can't find I've got the fear and I am tugging at your sleeve You will kill nonsense dead There's enough sulk here to swallow the youngest tear
Never seen a shooting star From the crowded Erie shore
And I am praying for your grace Quickly, before I move away
There's not enough movement here to fuse rivers and divisions for a minute
Lorraine, they call you here You're supposed to see it That the city makes its own stars
There's hope in your shadows Dark only in the sickest ways If we squint 'til the heavens are clear I come to you bearing plenty All of it worthless probably Can you take the worst from me? Can you take the fool out of me?
And your nasty will vindicate