Painter's Wife

Fell in love with a painter's wife
and I get it, I shouldn't have done it
But the secondhand smoke, all his friends and their jokes -
she went out, we met eyes on the stairwell

And I found them one night on the lawn by the bell
eating cherries and telling me I was a riot (Thanks!)
But the way her bracelets hit my floor
I could tell she preferred something tighter

And every evening I still hear that
message tone
Normally I felt so alone
And I haven't forgotten, I'll never forget
the shine of her face and the hole in my gut
Normally I felt so whole

I've never been good at saying I'm sorry
and I came to your door, but I never knocked
Cause I saw all your paintings
through the curve of her back
You and I, we just paint
different figures



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