three moons over memphis

there's the money i hold in my sweaty hand

dear god we're going to need strength tonight

for things the rest of the world won't understand

but you've got to

trust me you need to find it in you to trust

and i clutch at my shirt,

i tug at my sleeves

there's the taste of blood in my mouth faintly like rust

the last frames are drowned out by my screams and the sound of the chug-click-crash of

all our failed trailer park dreams

- you and i, falling, yes,

just like the leaves.