Hearts & Consequence

The last day of summer’s due
and I bet it looks good on you.
So let’s find some bottles of something
and ignore all the truths of consequence.
You bring the sandwiches
and I’ll bring the neediness
and a story about the lone ranger walking into a bar.
And I know it’s is stupid and so inappropriate,
but I’m tired of truth and consequence.
We’ll talk about the weather
and how our sounds are all the same,
the pointlessness of phone book listings
when you don’t know my name.
I’ll lie about your summer dress,
just to play coy, I guess,
when you ask and I say that it’s boring,
when really it swirls just like a weapon, a bank heist utility
in the hands of a skillful hypnotist.
We’ll talk about the weather
and how our sounds are all the same,
the pointlessness of tenderness when words are only waves
and you don’t know my name.
You don’t know my name.
Don’t mind the distant assembling thunder clouds,
they’re only baboons and candy floss.
Because I’m gonna put you up to it, you just don’t know it yet.
And you’ll fall like apples and empires,
until there’s nothing but hearts and consequence.