Lit​-​Up Bathtub Mary

from by Shared Arms

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lyrics

There's a lit-up bathtub Mary in the front yard
of the house her mother left her, making faces
at the passing cars. There's an angel made of plastic
standing in the attic, dusty and dogmatic.
I remember those hassock pews made her kneecaps
bruise through her sunday dress. Bless this mess, I'm through.
She sold the car but kept the gasoline to torch the house.
She couldn't keep it clean.
There's no ceiling to my grieving, so if we're
even then I'm leaving.
Packed light. Been wrong. Long nights and bitter songs.
No favours, no saviours. The luxuries that make this scary.
The shotgun side of a thumb-hitched ride,
tearing westward out of Weary.
Countless wasted minutes. Our limbs and all their limits.
Vigil candles near the curtains.
Bandage all abrasions. A saint for all occasions.
Strike a match and burn our burdens.
There's no ceiling to my grieving, so if we're
even then I'm leaving.
Packed light. Been wrong. Long nights and bitter songs.
No favours, no saviours. The luxuries that make this scary.
The shotgun side of a thumb hitched ride,
tearing westward out of Weary.
Believing, or just breathing.
If we're even I'm leaving.

credits

from Weary, ON, released March 14, 2015

tags

tags: punk rock Windsor

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Shared Arms Windsor, Ontario

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