Paper Letter

I blow the horn to wake up the village in the night.
I see your face when I'm staring at the anthracite.
Don't you notice the break of day?
Crop dust in my eyes must be keeping me awake.
If my baby comes looking I have nothing to say.

Purple glides its way into the sunrise rarely.
Don't the soot on the stove get cold when she marries me?
Don't we love what the night provides:
A chance to gather our thoughts without turning to our eyes?
Wide open, the fires smolders but the smoke still stings.

The paper letter that I wrote says you better hit the road.
You said you’ll change but I know you won’t.
And when I asked you to say please you said
That’s what my mouth open means, so feed me ‘til I’m full.

Man, the lack of sleep makes us all a bit thinner.
Can't wait to hibernate in the wintertime.
The coffee's bitter as early March.
Thinking things have thawed but it's only a lark
That got lost wandering south last November.

The paper letter that I read says you found another bed.
You bet I was hurt by what you said.
You pulled the rug out under me. I got nothing but train tracks
Rolling under my feet and around the bend.

It's a crime to wind up calling your name.
Shaking out the smokestacks, tending the train.
Thinking 'bout your curves again.
I'd rather jump the tracks then go around that bend.
Fill my cup. We're heading on 'til morning.

The paper letter that I burned, I still remember every word.
Sometimes the truth is a blinded bird.