Exponents

(Hello)
(Can you hear me?)
(Is anyone there?)

Well, I'd sew you a tunic
Made with thread from gossamer
So I could always see your bare chest
When you're thinking of your words

And, I would keep a gun on my dash
So when the conversation veers
I could shoot a bullet through the moon
Make the night sky disappear

'Cause, if I fucked the setting up
Would I still feel the awkward moment?
I just hate how all my impulses
In my mind, turn to exponents

Well, I would burn both my hands with lye
To make you bars of soap
So you could wash my mouth out
When my words are uncomfortable
Or, at least, prevent myself from making gestures I know I'll regret
I just hate how all my impulses
In my mind, are exponents

Well, I'd sew myself a tunic
Made with thick thread from old wool
So I could convince myself
I don't need another body
To keep me warm



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