Every Thursday

Every Thursday looks the same
She wakes up, turns the radio on
Gets back to bed, cause it’s so cold
And when I ask her what’s wrong
Answer stays the same as always
Darling, I’m just a little bit tired
She’s faded like my jeans
Face pale, eyes bitter
Just like her coffee, just like my life

Your breath gets slow
Like arpeggios of velvet
Your curly hair
Soaked with deadly perfume
And morning air
Gets as heavy as it could be
Waking hours
Always taste so strange

You know the evenings never change
She goes out on the street again
Home sweet home, street of dreams
And when I ask her what it’s like
She says don’t know, I like it that way
It’s always been like that, it don’t change
Sweet glimpses of champagne and stars
Concrete desert, rivers underground
Gotta get to the source before it’s dry

Your body bends
Far out on the horizon
Your curly hair
Soak with deadly perfume
And misty air
Gets as heavy as it could be
Evening hours
Always taste so strange

Question, answer, living room
I’m my music’s instrument
The vibes are warm, but why they’ve come
Every Thursday looks the same
She wakes up, walks around the room
Gets back to bed, cause it’s so cold