But if you turn the porch light on and let the marble night withdraw
You can smoke a cigarette on the wooden steps
The mosquitoes are not vampires. The moon is not your mother
Even if she is preparing for a total eclipse
Get behind the wheel. Stay in front of the storm
The clouds dream disorder. They make faces. They make mud
On some ancient order which is no longer enforced
The sugar bowl is full of ants. Your sister is a dumpy mess
And you are cutting off your head to spite your shoulders
Get behind the wheel. Stay in front of the storm
Get behind the wheel. Stay in front of the storm
