I heard his story, intoxicated walk home While a party raged on behind him Hotel ' He had left her there, his friend of sweet sixteen They were no longer more than this and her life turned To other things
Drugs, and older men ' The morning after Knock on his bedroom door ' a mother seeking truth He didn't know, couldn't remember
She can't be found'
Another page in the news lines ' Nothing more than another shattered life Rolled away in a rug Carried to a dumping place as her grave
He lives with this; he lives with this Burned into flesh ' a prick of needles Makes this guilt temporarily go away He is the painted man -
He can't be found'
Another page in small town history ' A man now obsessed with pain, Working needles against his wrapping And the glory of knowing nothing more than this
The inner dial to music of this world That he reaches out to meet is with thimble fingers
