Thin Places

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Saint Idiot

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You can come along
But you can only land
If you promise to
Burn the boat that you sailed in on

See, where that forest
Tightens to the skin
There in that scribble
We seceded

And drew a circle
Around our feral kingdom

Watched over by the stinging nettle
In an old, mushroomed-over log
The buried treasure
Playboys and Lucky Strikes
And a pair of my father's shoes

That only ever fit me
Only so, only so
I stuffed them in there once
I guess it wasn't very rational

Like animals
Dragging their traps
We tried to never look back
We let nothing in
But joie de vivre

Freshwater shipwrecks
By nightfall bubbled to the surface of our skin
So we touched one another
With the fondness we were due

They used to say that pain is gain
But any pain?
Sure, any pain

Really, any pain?

Only so, only so

So I reach into the nettles
Having idled
At the bottom of my breath
The dreaded moment of contact

Time to take a deep breath
I'm gonna let myself look
Look at what's behind me

I'm going back to all the places that I've cried
I'm going back to all the places that I've cried
I'm going back to all the places that I've cried

You said, no one expects to be
Welcome at the doors of pain
Yet at that purifying flame
You said no one expects you
To walk right through them again and again
It's enough to give the pain a name

And just be there with yourself
And just be there with yourself

So let it flow, let it flow, let it flow
The story only ever fit
Only so, only so, only so

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