I’ve whispered through the grass the tale of our claret soldiery.
Reduced to a wrestle on the ground where we shed champagne selves you fled
And I sat, as I sit now, on the shock, sword at feet
Because even when you’re beat there’s further to fall.
My uniform’s torn from all the battles that I’ve bled
From the cavalries I’ve never led because I don’t want to be the one who said
The truth.
Every time you trespass through my mind I find
That the only reason I bound myself to you was so that
You could let me free.
Set me away.
When I said goodbye to the cartoon of Yesterday I meant it.
But it keeps creeping through my skin
Like it’s hell bent on sending me off the edge.
Because every war we wage is another minute that I’m not pretending to make peace
With the life I ought to lead.
And even if I bleed I’m willing to accept the scars because the battlefield is far away.
Our comrades hide their landmines beneath our fingernails
So that every time we clench our fists our lemming dives become their
Barricade on the front line.
And I’m tired of lying.
I’m tired of lying face down while they write boot prints on our backs
And I’m tried of lying to cover our tears
But I love when we lie long enough to cover our tracks.
When we slip off the tightrope of our carnival games
I hope that the slow tumble leads me
To your footprints in the snow.