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lyrics

Your heart is a rarity of sorts--
distorted, disordered.
The parts the I uncovered last,
they recant the memories of the past.

Was it on Halloween
that you told me you were happy?
But words are stronger in the flesh.
You told her a bar, by yourself, lonely's
where you were at.

I'm a collector of sorts.
Not people, but spirits.
To take and keep it as your own,
stay near it, devour it, then leave them hollow.

The day after the fourth,
I found out, read each out loud.
To know you couldn't have been real--
It was freeing, and killed me, and made whatever I am now.

credits

from Rare and Collectible Spirits, released February 28, 2014

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La Guerre Lawrence, Kansas

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