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some skeletons - ex​-​sceptics lyrics

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bright afternoon drizzle. high school darlings and grizzled survivalists alike can’t clutch their crutches tight enough…

…while hurling words into wires, that backtracking might find this whole thing fossilised in a positive light

but wait, but wait, but wait…

it seems convenience store forecourts all get haunted, heavy+handed, by the last desperate confessions that were launched but never landed

so, track the final acts of answering machines – receivers smashed against collapsed number keys. map the veer of steering wheels obliviously trying to see how many cat’s eyes there’s still time to steer between

they’ll swerve with curves in the surf, where tiny birds find perfect perches, while words are hurled through the wires, that backtracking might find this whole thing fossilised in a positive light

then someone else can make some sense of this mess. then someone else can make some sense of what’s left



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