Mechanical

Mechanical mannequins make out in the dimming lamplight that I drink
Night after night, the unlikelihood of a lookalike for true love
Looking at me like this must count for something
My faith dangles on a keychain, I’ll end up on the side of a highway or in the
clink
I’m on my way home. I think dangerously
See, I may or may not push that red button
I am tempted by nothing. I am tempted by nothing
Your eyesight is spilling upon me like a thousand vacuum-packed pieces of
cardboard
Puzzling me more than foreign correspondence that I don’t dare to read
I find it refreshing more than flutes of champagne flat as the notes that I
can’t hit
Shadows must live with their masters, even on the days they forget the recycling
Hey there, I am in need of a bonfire
At least somebody warm enough to be capable of providing me with a light
You can tip toe over the coals and leave my oven over night
There are flammable devices that I’ve sewn into my skin
I am tempted by nothing. I am tempted by nothing
I see through the center of your skeletal system
To the place where you’ve been cradling convection
And I have attempted nothing. I have attempted nothing
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing
I am tempted by nothing. I am tempted by nothing twice
I see your iris hiding a vitamin tablet in place of the pupil
And I have attempted nothing. I have attempted nothing twice
I’ll leave that up to strangers I can blame later for the bad image
I am tempted by nothing
(Men make wallets. Wallets make men.)
I am the operator of a catapult that’s got a coin slot that needs a quarter now,
you got a nickel
Salvation is such a silly scene that I don’t need it
As much as I need to see it happen, just sometimes
Another uncut young stuttering footstep, fear of failure in the opposite of
death
I am petty theft. No big deal. Come steal my attention and run
I’m done with Dodge and got out if only after the days of damnation
That I spent with the purveyors of dirt at the bottom of a bouquet
Let me down with your best lecture, and I’ll promise to remember you fondly
Will you prompt me when it’s time to go on and herald my happiness on intercoms?
I’m uninterested in the babbling dyslexic prose you supposedly programmed in me
I am more concerned by my bad eyesight and the cobwebs I see
I see things like cobwebs