sell me less, tell me more

Written by: Jerry Golden

color pickets 
match the days away
when hours fade
there's no feel left to persuade

you know more than me
that you do 
But i know who it is 
beneath the scars
the fancy lights 
the impervious dark

no matter what your poetry says
it's undone
and your songs will sing themselves 
unfinished
until they become desperate enough
to turn to vinyl plagues

and if you were to feel contagious
i guess i could move you along
and if you were to feel contagious
I guess i could shoot you a call

no sense in wishing 
what you cannot say
i kiss you well
curse me
your days of hell

to see your thoughts unshelved
is a catalog i've wanted less
sidewalks and broken bones
unskin your knees
the little fees 
that bring about such doubt

color pickets 
match the days away
i'm holding on to
all i've ever known
little thoughts of you
incase you move along

and if you were to feel contagious
i guess i could move you along
and if you were to feel contagious
I guess i could shoot you a call
move along now
move along

"you see the chalk, I see the paintings along the way"