i don't know who it is you're hoping to see feeding you all your lines while you rehearse the scene.
every couple weeks the roof keeps leaking down.
every couple weeks you fall asleep to the sound.
there's no more bruises left to wake you up at night and no more dreams that seem to sweep into your life,
but every couple days the rain comes through the door,
so every couple days you say you're looking for all those old souls that call you home,
and how they all hold on and won't let you go.
they've come to shake you from the place you think you are.
they're only waiting for this house to fall apart.
i don't know who it is you're hoping to see coming around the corner, in line right behind me.