I slipped into the cloak you left
I fiddle around in the ashtray
To find your cigarette pinkish red
I light it and take a drag
I swear I'm losing it
With all these erased recordings, I'm rearranging parts
You should accept
We'll probably remain this way to the end, in steps
Underneath the sheets I find your
Makeup and shoes in a bag laid open
Grab my keys and some money
And circle around the lake
within
underneath
there
tempt
swear
striving
using
honey
shoes
imagined
these
grave
equality
light
picture
release
erased
eighteen
thrills
hundred
dreams
remain
strange
guess
ashtray
around
circle
desire
sheets
again
might
crawled
somewhere
accept
believe
slipped
channels
losing
should
cigarette
makeup
fiddle
shared
cloak
rearranging
maybe
pinkish
million
money
unchained
perfect
probably
shape
recordings
spirit
parts
steps
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