30 Oct 1995
I pull my collar down low
To show my sucking chest wound
The taste of apple and tin
On a hot spring afternoon
A child screams in midair
A diving board springs to place
My eyelids burn with dull light
Can murder be done with some
Grace and style
No way again
Now I'm face down in the yard
I'm feeling shaky and pale
My nails encrusted in brown
My big experiment failed
The swing-set swings in the back
The chain are rusty and old
The crossbar creaks as it bends
The seat is splintering and cold
No way
To show my sucking chest wound
The taste of apple and tin
On a hot spring afternoon
A child screams in midair
A diving board springs to place
My eyelids burn with dull light
Can murder be done with some
Grace and style
No way again
Now I'm face down in the yard
I'm feeling shaky and pale
My nails encrusted in brown
My big experiment failed
The swing-set swings in the back
The chain are rusty and old
The crossbar creaks as it bends
The seat is splintering and cold
No way
