how strange it is to blend
with houses built to bend
to see through sleepwalker eyes
with no gales of mist and needles
and no microwave glass burns
and no one who knows how you made up your mind

and why aren’t the hallways empty
why aren’t the doorways closed
with a “no insomniacs” sign
and does anybody notice
the silent fever spread
the shadows of those who were always inside

come on, let the poor devils in
they won’t hurt you, i don’t think
and who cares if they see through your skin

they say, “I’m sure you’ll stick with me for a long time”
they say, “I need you more than you could care to know”
they ask, “do you want me? will you keep me warm?”
I hold my tongue
as I’ve done
since I was born

    indie pop, indie rock, art pop, art rock, electronica, electropop, dance-pop, Calgary
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