Coda: A Burn Scar In The Shape Of The Sooner State

Run the water 'til it scalds you,
Know that I’m listening.
Pitter patter runs the shower,
Hits the bare porcelain.
Watch the dirt run down the plughole,
Hear it echo within.
They described you nude in detail,
I knew everything:
An artist’s impression of the Manhattan Skyline
And a soon to be burned scar,
In the perfect shape of the Sooner state.
I fall to my knees,
My piss soaked jeans:
The first time,
The last time,
All the times inbetween.
The first time,
The last time,
All the times I would have liked there to have been.
I can’t believe I chose the mountains every time you chose the sea.