A Dozen Reasons Not To Be Alone Lyrics

One more time I'll stroke the stolen evening

And escape the frozen pulse of love

Like the junkie as he's staring at the needle

Or a pilot who keeps falling from above

The words seep slow like conjured poison

From a ten-cent pen that holds a curse

When living with myself is angry torture

And living all alone is even worse

Two more times I'll smile through foggy teardrops

Pretending that the smoke just hit my eyes

Like the happy clown who's crying at the bucket

Wearing clothes that measure twice his size

The words are stranded checkers on the patchwork

Of a song that keeps on begging for a verse

When living with myself is strained indifference

And living all alone is even worse

Three more times I'll dip into the nightmare

And watch its liquid fantasy dissolve

Like the valet just outside the nightclub

As he watches lesser creatures hearts revolve

The words are bits of corn chips beneath the sofa

Talking to the loose change from her purse

While living with myself becomes a challenge

And living all alone is even worse

Four more times I disagree with feelings

That come and go like motion in the breeze

Like dreams I treasured young and restless romance

Before my perfect lover took my knees

The words are eating holes inside the fabric

Of a scene that I can not reverse

While living with myself is still a struggle

Living all alone is even worse

Five more times I drained her lonely kisses

Until they whispered hey there's nothing here

Like a muse who flees alone without the poet

In a time of constant flux and measured fear

The words are molding breadcrumbs on the sidewalk

That cross the road to justify the hearse

While living with myself is still amusing

Living all alone is even worse

Six more times I washed the nonsense from a

Brain that melted twice before it breathed

Like a dirty piece of laundry in the closet

Or the empty drop of vengeance as it seethed

The words get tired and empty after midnight

Rolling from my tongue in senseless verse

While living with myself is breathing sulfur

Living all alone is even worse

Seven is the solemn sacred number

Without form or function in my heated veins

Like the moisture on your lips at first belonging

Or the liquor as it hits the rusty drains

The words a buried treasure to the dentist

As he goes looking for a tooth that he'll immerse

Living with myself is anesthesia

And living all alone is even worse

Eight more times I existed on the left side of your mind

Like the wind that blows a romance out of reach

Reaching for an altar after midnight

Running towards a place that I can't reach

Afternoons are drifting into mornings

While mornings bring a light and gentle curse

Living with myself is little solace

Because living all alone is even worse

Nine more shifted eyes control the evening

The goddess takes her footsteps from my face

Ignoring the arriving and the leaving

She says she's got to find another place

The words are breaking up like ancient sculpture

In a room where every artist starts to thirst

If living with myself is an illusion

Then living all alone is even worse

Ten times I woke up and found the morning

Dancing like a shadow on your cheek

Giving me the future in a heartbeat

And tempting you to feel instead of speak

The words are like electric drops of passion

Sent down my throat until my insides burst

While living with myself becomes religion

Living all alone is even worse

Eleven burning embers held the fireplace

In a place where other men had held your eyes

Exhausting all the threats and poison memories

That lit up as you bared your tender thighs

The words are only ice and fading love songs

The answer is the question getting terse

As living with myself is putting up with

Living all alone that's even worse

Twelve times and we crate an even dozen

And we sell it to the traders and the thieves

Living in the bold and evil oven

Seeking out a heart that still believes

That the words are treasured pieces of my insides

While I'm hiding love that's awkward and diverse

Living with myself a convicts sentence

And living all alone it's even worse

The words are treasured pieces of my insides

While I'm hiding love that's awkward and diverse

Living with myself a convicts sentence

And living all alone it's even worse