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The Calendar Hung Itself

Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head?

And does he sing to you, incessantly, from the space between your bed and wall?

Does he walk around all day at school, with his feet inside your shoes?

Looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you?

Oh, Does he know that place below your neck that's your favorite to be touched?

And does he cry through broken sentences like, "I love you far too much"?



Does he lay awake listening to your breath?

Worried you smoke too many cigarettes?

Is he coughing now?

On a bathroom floor?

For every speck of tile

There's a thousand more

You won’t ever see

But most hold inside yourself

Eternally



Well, I drug your ghost across the country

And we plotted out my death

In every city, memories would whisper,

"Here is where you rest."



I was determined in Chicago

But I dug my teeth into my knees

And I settled for a telephone

Sang into your machine,



"You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine.

You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine."



And I kissed a girl with a broken jaw

That her father gave to her

She had eyes bright enough to burn me;

They reminded me of yours

And in a story told, she was a little girl in a red-rouge, sun-bruised field

And there were rows of ripe tomatoes, where a secret was concealed

And it rose like thunder

Clapped under our hands

And it stretched for centuries

To a diary entry’s end

Where I wrote,



"You make me happy,

Oh, when skies are gray.

You make me happy

Oh, when skies are gray, gray, gray."



Well the clock’s heart it hangs inside its open chest

With its hands stretched towards the calendar hanging itself

But I will not weep

For those dying days

For all the ones who've left

There's a few that stayed

And they found me here

And pulled me from the grass

Where I was laid

Bright Eyes

The Calendar Hung Itself / Bright Eyes

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