What I did on my vacation (for the last ten years...)

Took pictures of your town, plaid perfume on my breath, [[I mean i've been 
drinking scotch while touring through your town. -Ed]]

Adultry makes you give things away. It gets you confused. Adultry takes a one 
room vacation, then it gets you alone, turns into a honeymoon scream..., then 
you have to change the sheets. 

Smoke in one hand looking for a light. Martini in the other hand pointing out 
Midnight. 

Now that you pulled the school underwater and drowned the prom, which man will 
you save for this Friday? You can put him in a fish pond and watch him swim 
around. Then have a Catholic dinner. 

If it isn't men, it's death; it's the same old testament. At the cross--her 
station keeping--stood the mournful mother weeping where my man extended, 
hung, driven with nails to wood. 

Smoke in one hand looking for a drink. Drink in the other hand pointing out 
Midnight. 

At my desk--as you're sleepng--as the big deal of death kills me and starts 
leaving, everbody asks me how i'm doing. 

"I'm doing everything alone. Rave on children and try to sleep."

Larks must sing grave, deep melodies; happy that they die. The sly brown fox 
pulled up a glass, pulled up a chair, and yanked out my hair. When i tried 
to sit I fell down. When i woke up he was gone. 

So one has a smoke one has a drink. The man is gone, Mary's dead. Good morning, 
Midnight.