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Mar 03, 2008 - 08:42 AM PST

its the echoes through my head, the halls
from the distance we sit in safe houses
and laugh at the chariots which carry our president
under the changing sky colors and leave sin like freckles
caught in a snowstorm
her eyes wide this animal in the blind side
caught in the ribs, caught in the ribs
left prowling through the pockets of the blind
pulling away from dinner, i feel I'm getting thinner
there's no stomach that can finish what i started
you're a lot to swallow I'm choking it down
with your face in my head and not in my hands
my appetite thrives on dreams and denial