The Belly of Your Bedroom

Our hero sits unsteadily on a highway rocking chair, bottle of white wine, the wind, it ruffles his well-cut hair. And our eyes they focus backwards to the people that he needs. They hold my instruments and my back-ups, in shirts with cut-off sleeves. She told me that she kissed you and then she told me more. Our hero knows I'm angry and he knows that I'm a bore. I'm sad when it is raining, when the sun comes I'm a freak. Our hero lives in mild temperatures and gets eight hours sleep And I know that I'm a liar and I know that I can't fill your desires with a body that's always going to let the both of us down. Half smiles in the belly of your bedroom and half lies that I never should have told you. My demise is only going to let one of us down. And darling I'm going My back it aches for transport, I can hardly feel my feet. My stitches are slowly but surely falling out of me. I know I'm not exciting but I never claimed to be. And I live for this morning and I will live and let you leave. I don't understand why we have to be on standby while your overseas. Can't you be free and still know me? And our hero keeps a secret locked up somewhere in his teeth. Maybe I'll break one or two just to hear him speak Darling I'm going to find somewhere for us to sleep, and darling I'm going to work on every single inch of me, and darling I'm going to find somewhere for us to sleep, and darling I'm going to keep on living