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you thought it stood for wasted time

so you burned it down

for that tepid crime

despite it’s

sentimental brine

it could not contain

all the things you could never explain

so you doused all the beams and the land

with a poison that spreads in the wind

you could barely tied your own shoes

but you could climb to the top

to that old wooden room

and you’d stay

for days and days

if not for

dinner table breaks

lovers

they want to stay

til the house that they’ve built

don’t look the same

and they pick up

and head

for the door

in search of what

they think

they’ve ignored

it could not contain

all the things you could never explain

so you doused all the beams and the land

with a poison that spreads in the wind

no one would mistake your country eyes

for a fog that snakes through the pines

or a poison that spreads in the wind