The Author.
Sylvia Haynes
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The ink stains on the pillowcase had dried And what remained what he had to hide He swallowed his pride And, looked the plot hole in the eye I am the reader of the stories he writes And, the reason his face is covered in bug bites I am the singer of the songs that you burn into night I own the endless hands that reach for satellites He watched The Septic Tank Queen read ammunition magazines And she sucked on the steam of a freshly rotted man She brushed the dust off her shoulders Sat down at the piano But, she slipped on her shadow Cus she was staring at her hands So ship him off to stay with "Us", and pat him on the back Stack the glass actors with wreathes around their necks A wave crash A memory lapse A signature on a (Blank Contract) So, bring him to "Us", so we can Take him from "You", then we'll Bring him to "You", so you can Take him from "Us" The bus STOP Made a little crack in the distance He tried to trie his shoes, but his feet wouldn't listen And the windshield glistened as it met with her head And, a voice on the radio rang out and said "What are you looking at?" (Not "You") "Who do you think you are?" (Not "You")
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"The Author. Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Jun 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/10521015/Sylvia+Haynes/The+Author.>.
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