puddles and mistakes

[cyanideandink]

Elvis never could carry a tune
she thought about this irony as she stared back at the moon
she was tracing the years with her fingers on her skin
saying why don't I begin again
with turpentine and patches
with cold, cold Campbell's from the can
after all I'm still a jerk playing with matches
it's just that he's not around to play along
I'm still an asshole playing with candles
Blowing out my wishes blowing out my dreams
Just sitting here and trying to decipher what's written in Braille upon my skin...