Fake Fur Coat

Behold the drift of a distant sun

Cold as my own heart

Blind at the edge of no return

Every time I dare depart

I believe the myth may illuminate

An anchor in the dry weeds

At the end of July in a fake fur coat

Hoping that your heart still needs me

I concede there's beauty in bubblegum

I'm rolling up my sleeves

To advertise the new freedom

I accept I can't receive

Behold the gift of the distant sun

The canyons full of loose bones

The nettles and the brambles and the jack bitch boss

Thundering down from his throne