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He Who Never- The Ruse

I know a girl who was born in the fields:
The furious nights, and the way that it feels
To be totally absent and fully alive as well.

And son, I remember the delicate dance
Of my heavy-eyed heart with my desperate plans;
She could look at you sideways, the moon in her hair,
And then pick up your past off the ground with her bare hands.

So don’t give a damn what they say about time.
Understand that a minute is sixty quick lies
That deny you the right to her head on your shoulder,
And suddenly, miles become weeks, become older.

So maybe I’ll trade in the suit and the tie
For a life in the trees and the sound of her sigh
Where I don’t need the ruse, and all I believe
Is the way that she laughs with her tongue in her teeth…

Oh, to be totally absent and fully alive as well.