Like a Box of Chocolates
She slipped into the night like cold hands through damp hair
Like the shot to memory of the brazen local stare
Like sobriety slipping from its gossamer shell
Ah well, he said, these bottle shards reflect our lives so well
It's all ugly from here, he said, steel toes crushing the fag
Holding on wistfully to the taste of his last drag
Her eyes the only place he stood out from the hopeless throng
His blistered hands the only place she'd ever belong
And her small pink shoes sway
On the ancient power line
As the cold wind seems to say
All that's yours will be mine
Bubbles blown through the TV swallowed liberty whole
He said a broken heart is no sin next to a broken soul
Hunger and a corsage passed down her mother's side
He lent some anger to his crowbar and paid for a ride
Downtown her friends wriggle under fantasy's glass shoe
And the wind whispers of every young man's Waterloo
Singing get yourself a little soil and foil operation
So you can search for your parents down their permanent TV vacation
And her small pink shoes sway
On the ancient power line
As the cold wind seems to say
All that's yours will be mine
And over the time-killed years all the pink dye washed away
The white picket guards no treasures, the town's a faded fray
And one more Cinderella's smeared across the headlights of dawn
But the wind howled to find that what it came to claim was gone
Like the shot to memory of the brazen local stare
Like sobriety slipping from its gossamer shell
Ah well, he said, these bottle shards reflect our lives so well
It's all ugly from here, he said, steel toes crushing the fag
Holding on wistfully to the taste of his last drag
Her eyes the only place he stood out from the hopeless throng
His blistered hands the only place she'd ever belong
And her small pink shoes sway
On the ancient power line
As the cold wind seems to say
All that's yours will be mine
Bubbles blown through the TV swallowed liberty whole
He said a broken heart is no sin next to a broken soul
Hunger and a corsage passed down her mother's side
He lent some anger to his crowbar and paid for a ride
Downtown her friends wriggle under fantasy's glass shoe
And the wind whispers of every young man's Waterloo
Singing get yourself a little soil and foil operation
So you can search for your parents down their permanent TV vacation
And her small pink shoes sway
On the ancient power line
As the cold wind seems to say
All that's yours will be mine
And over the time-killed years all the pink dye washed away
The white picket guards no treasures, the town's a faded fray
And one more Cinderella's smeared across the headlights of dawn
But the wind howled to find that what it came to claim was gone