Talk Into My Bullet Hole. Tell Me

She Had Nothing In This World But Her Two Hands And Her Crazy Love For Jesus, Who Seemed, For His Part, Never To Have Heard Of Her.

It Was Only When You Left It Alone That A Tree Might Treat You As A Friend. After The Blade Bit In, You Had Yourself A War.

Sometimes What I Wouldn't Give To Have Us Sitting In A Bar Again At 9:00 A.m. Telling Lies To One Another, Far From God.

Talk Into My Bullet Hole. Tell Me I'm Fine.

There Were Many Moments In The Vine Like That One--where You Might Think Today Was Yesterday, And Yesterday Was Tomorrow, And So On. Because We All Believed We Were Tragic, And We Drank. We Had That Helpless, Destined Feeling. We Would Die With Handcuffs On. We Would Be Put A Stop To, And It Wouldn't Be Our Fault. So We Imagined. And Yet We Were Always Being Found Innocent For Ridiculous Reasons.