The Wanderlust Banshee |
The Wanderlust Banshee |
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The Wanderlust Banshee
He took the bus, out to some nowhere town. He took the cab, out to some rundown lounge. And he couldn’t tell you how he felt right then; She meant nothing to him, nothing. She opened with a hush’ed tone; She screamed and she hissed and she cried. He didn’t stay but just a minute, But in that minute he died. And your life, you bitter bloom, has been wasted on moments thus sweet. I heard a mourning dove at my window he sang in a beckoning low as you left my street. When the time comes for you to visit me I’ll scream and I’ll hiss and I’ll cry. But I know that the moment you hear my pain, That very moment you’ll die. We have lived for nothing, this entire span of our lives. You loved others and I loved others. He loved others and she loved others. And together symmetry brought us no good. You have suffered your whole life, dear, But for what? Oh for what such crime? You have worked through your mother’s womb, Put at what price? For what price? I took a plane, I took a bus; I road all night to get there. And in that moment of wanderlust: I couldn’t tell you how I felt right then; But I meant nothing to him, nothing. |
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