Styrofoam cup of mud in my good hand,
 Disembodied voice of God in the trash can
 Eyes in the ashes, feeling for the future
 Sleeping through the steak-out, researching [bad word] 

 mile, motor, mattress, memory.
 First you were embarassed, but how could you not be,
 Tangled and teenaged, mom at the movies,
 Your voice ran out out of words,
 It was awkward and holy. 

 Gospel in your belly, they aim a little lower,
 Back into the bleachers, Spoke as it's owner.
 Sindicate a sermon you sang from the raptors,
 Anchors in you pockets, holding down the laughter.

 Tearing up your mind, your lust and your ego,
 Slingshot a martyr to speed your libido,
 The parish goes to jelly, blissful and wasted.
 Your Vishnu eye slips open and pictures them naked.

 [bad word] your worst mixed message
 You built then burnt a bridge.
 And scattered all your [bad word] at the cliff,
 She wants me, she'll swim for it.

 Brother, can you spare your alms or your arrows?
 Thunder clap's arising, I think that I should
 Go home.

 To the basement back on Jumel Street,
 1996 and your waiting there to tell me,
 "I didn't die, you dreamt it, you dreamt it,
 I'm as alive as your best good intentions.
 Sorry that I tricked you, you had to focus
 Put yourself together, and clear out the garbage."

 But for all that effort, 
 The slow burned [bad word] 
 I forgot where you live.

 She swept away the clues from the cliff, your lost now.(x4)
 Remember it.

 She swept away the clues from the cliff, your lost now. 
 Remember it