Marrow

                           the answer came
                           like a shot in the back
                           while you were running from your lesson
                           which might explain
                           why years later all you could remember
                           was the terror of the question
                           plus, you weren't listening
                           you were stockpiling canned goods
                           making a bomb shelter of our basement
                           and i can't believe you let the moral go by
                           while you were soaking in the product placement

                           where was your conscience?
                           where was your consciousness?
                           and where did you put all those letters
                           that you wrote to yourself
                           but could not address?

                           i'm a good kisser
                           and you're a fast learner
                           and that kinda thing could float us
                           for a pretty long time
                           then one day you'd realize
                           you've memorized my phone number
                           and you'll call it and find
                           it's a disconnected line
                           cuz i got tossed out the window of love's el camino
                           and i shattered into a shower of sparks on the curb
                           you were smoking me
                           weren't you?
                           between your yellow fingers
                           you just inhaled and exhaled without saying a word

                           where was your conscience?
                           where was your consciousness?
                           and where did you put all those letters
                           that you wrote to yourself
                           but could not address?

                           there's a smorgasbord of unspoken poisons
                           a whole childhood of potions
                           that are all bottled up
                           and so one by one i am dusting off labels
                           i am uncorking bottles and filling up cups
                           so go ahead and have a taste of your own medicine
                           and i'll have a taste of mine
                           but first let's toast to the lists
                           that we hold in our fists
                           of the things that we promise to do
                           differently next time

                           cuz the answer came like a shot in the back
                           while you were running from your lesson
                           which might explain
                           why years later all you could remember
                           was the terror of the question
                           plus i'm not listening to you anymore
                           my head is too sore and my heart's perforated
                           and i'm mired in the marrow of my (well... ain't that) funny bone
                           learning how to be alone and devastated
                           where was my conscience?
                           where was my consciousness?
                           and what do i do with all these letters
                           that i wrote to myself
                           but cannot address?