You play electric guitar
I play acoustic
Neither of us are very good.
I know a few chords,
I played the chorus of 505 for you
You told me to "get Weezered"
and played a string of chords
from a song I'm convinced I know
but the words escape me
Both of us know music
Myself piano and choir
You the violin
We both know music
but we don't know guitar
We just know how to make
the other laugh
because you love Arctic Monkeys
and I love you.
I'm six on the living room floor -
the pink album the pink album I chant -
dad puts the Supremes on the record player, the jacket handed to me -
pink, with three of the most beautiful women I've ever seen -
the Midwest is a snake eating its own tail.
get out get out get out is the head, beating in time with the heartbeat of every new baby born in these states,
it's hard to remember when/
when the throat begins to scratch at the mouth, begging to be let free
when the stomach begins its churning waves like an upset ocean god
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