1, 2, 3, 4 Guitars Songtext

The winter's looming like a

bloodthirsty bird of prey

And I guarantee by spring we'll

either be world famous or

goddamned dead.



Guitar one fastens languid years to

busty bones like dust and skin on a

dull antique moon.


Guitar two's touch keeps ruining

lovers for other lovers like jokers

concealed in trick decks in our laps.



There's a train tumbling down torn

paper tracks while weeds blossom

from heartbeats that lack.



Guitar three's dancing even though

her song ended ages and

ages ago.



She's at an empty dance club

suspended in the middle of a

rambling sentence.



Guitar four says, "If you still

believe in the grace of man, let me

introduce you to greedy, greedy,

greedy hands."



Let's sling our rain slicks over every

single second to the rapture

dripping from clocks ticking all our

misadventures.



The winter left town with some

seventeen-year-old waitress.

And spring's laying in a pile of all

moments of our misadventure.