muttered nearly silently, one would whisper:

"we can take all this has to offer. we can bleed this baby dry."

"we will stroll through the streets eating everything america has to offer."

but it's warmer in this coffin where your light doesn't reach.

perched here on this folding chair, asking you to teach.

i could have been complacent like i could have been a friend.

i would have been a sailboat if my spine just didn't bend.

--

for all the tea in china

and all the cups in the world

i'd ask to take you by the hand

and offer you a prettier girl

--

whispered very cautiously, one could speak:

"we have broken all their defenses, given out all the praise."

"we can scream through the streets in our loose-fitting sins."

but it's easier where it's breezier when you're so far away.

just a rhyme, a crime, your dime on my time, another lie a day.

you're like something molding under the carpet amongst the stacks of books.

i'm like something that holds your eyes for yet another sneering look.

--

for all the tea in china

and all the cups in the world

i'd laugh in time to the beat of this rhyme

and show you a much better girl

--

for all the tea in china

and all the cups in the world

you'd pick a rose and strike a pose

and there'd be the prettiest girl

--

mrs. kennedy, i admit. i shot your husband.

i killed america when i broke his heart.