milkhotel
Sinking ship, how long can you hold still?
Your illness spills against my face
Sinking ship, how long can you hold still?
Oh, can't you feel the coming waves?
A perfect Sunday portrait of my mother
Painting horses all alone
Of lovers and of leavers still believing
They are free to come back home
Sinking ship, how long can you hold still?
Your illness is all that you are
A portrait of my father as a baby
Sleeping underneath the stars
A small pill of forgiveness I am giving to myself
It's what I need
A small gift of fulfillment I am hoping
You will open and receive
Your illness fills this empty room
A portrait of your lover softly drowning
In the warm waters of June
Sending signals through the drum
A portrait of my sadness finding shelter
In the safety of my home