The Real Folk Blues, Pt. 3

I've been one-eyed running through these weeks
 Drowning my head trying to the flood these memory banks
 Honey, your portraits been hanging in the back of my eyes
 But my nails aren't sharp enough to takWe were all marked: "return to sender"
 In bubble wrapped basements
 Denim patchwork hearts
 Studded engagement rings
 Stick-and-proke prose
 We're all just candles in the wind
 Kamikaze pirates burning at both ends
 Stumbling in the darkness
 Searching for a purpose
 Driving into traffic
 Blackout automatic
 I just want to lick my wounds tonight
 Or just let them bleed
 I will never make you proude them out
 But my nails aren't sharp enough to take them out
 I'll give my eyes to the sun if it keeps the curtains drawn forever
 I think I'd rather go blind than see that you're doing better
 You were a pretty coffin