One of my turns
oh my god, what a fabulous room!
are all these your guitars?
this place is bigger than our apartment.
uh, could i have a drink of water?
ya want some? huh? oh wow!
look at this tub! wanna take a bath?
what're you watching? hello?
are you feeling ok?
day after day, our love turns gray,
like the skin on a dying man.
and night after night, we pretend it's all right,
but i have grown older, and you have grown colder,
and nothing is very much fun, anymore.
and i can feel, one of all my turns coming on.
i feel, cold as a razor blade,
tight as a tourniquet, dry as a funeral drum.
run to the bedroom, in the suitcase on the left,
you'll find my favorite axe.
don't look so frightened,
this is just a passing phase,
one of my bad days.
would you like to watch tv?
or get between the sheets?
or contemplate a silent freeway?
would you like something to eat?
would you like to learn to fly? -- would ya?
would you like to see me try? ooohh.
no! would you like to call the cops?
do you think it's time i stopped?
why are you running away?
