In the empty lot where the ladies play blindmans bluff with the key chain And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the d train We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight Ask himself if its him or them thats really insane Louise, shes all right, shes just near Shes delicate and seems like the mirror But she just makes it all too concise and too clear That johannas not here The ghost of lectricity howls in the bones of her face Where these visions of johanna have now taken my place
Posted on: Sun, 30 Nov 2014 02:41:22 +0000
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