Blues to the Island

We were a joke on the porch, passing smoke back and forth, shitty timing

Three stems of aster, a dried up disaster all left in the binding

Papa is that you, or the hairpin bulb loose in the dining?

I don't need to be reminded I'm dying

Antidepressant, sedated the second I look at him smiling

Biblical name, go on, fill me with shame, I got a silver lining

He takes off his shoes, carries me through the blues to the island

We're almost there but I still have dreams where I wake from your bedroom, crying

Falling asleep at the wheel and I'll die before dialing

New year resolve to be nice (again), Momma I'm trying