written with my friend T. Joyce, recording in my mam's basement
lyrics
your mouth agurgle with wives with tails
when you rode away that night
riding fast with both brakes busted
over cop cars with your bike
but you never seemed to grasp it with your hands
you talk so much
i think you might explode
painting pretty faces with your words
when you talk so much
i think my head might explode
ruining your sheets
and running down your clothes
with all the thoughts
like bandages
wrapped 'round your beating heart
a sandwich based around
movie stars and fast cars and delight
rip roaring with the kinds of things
that start an engine cold
if your neck was made of glass
then it would hold
you talk so much
i think you might explode
painting pretty faces with your words
when you talk so much
i think my head might explode
ruining your sheets
and running down your clothes
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