every november, 1975

in the autumn

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Every November, 1975

In the autumn shoegaze finds me like a friend		my nihilism like
what if I die in a way they forget		
           I’ve danced in the room alone
played the game and all my pieces were wrong
I’m writing the words to the end of this song		while
      you’re measuring the space between I knew it and 
  all along		
between the limb and the phantom stars
               I had to know for myself I didn’t want to die in New York
that I could still get lost in the world 	
	
   In my burrow			
     I count the flies on the window		
Try to make a real girl out of me
      see in the bare of my soul 		
a woods with no trees
	my life 	and a new dream

on Sunday when the bells are	beat	
I struck once 	 and am hit by three 
I’m singing 
                    love is a riddle		
	good men die too, you see?
	I’m dancing for no one 
I only feel me		

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