Parts I Like Lyrics

Mild storyteller

Jealous of her gifts

Glam-rock painted riffs, glitter nails

She scratches backs, we all get flustered

Stutter-voiced, heroic highs

The walks to corner stores felt dangerous

Cars hit me with their mirrors

As the buses can't commit to turning

Stumble drunk, I used to drink

Legs feel heavy under body

The naive boy from all the songs

Is dying as he always does

He likes to win and make me cry

Exhausting like a sharp-clawed parrot

Repeating what I tell myself

So I put away my drink

You could sell your intuition

To the guy with some French name

Pulling gravel from your knees (stone-faced but hot with envy)

He makes it known

Those roundabouts are all the same

Feeling slightly sickly green

My chest parted like a red sea axe wound

Existential, vaguely doomed

Like all good country songs begin

Write a novel, sleep on it

My finger slips and kills my darlings

"Starlings on the Slipstream 2"

Will have to wait

No one writes them like they used to

Fill up the margins from inside

I do the work of some long-dead, run-on author

I make it known

Which parts I like