You’ve got the right amount of everything

You’re quite the perfect specimen

And still

When it comes right down to it

You’re mentally ill

I know you don’t mean any harm

Some days it’s part of your charm

Some days I open the door to a darkness

And wonder if this is what it means to be partners

Instead of boyfriend and girlfriend

Caught in a whirlwind of singsong sunshine and oxytocin

With all that time to smile and be open

Partners who wear their cards on theirs sleeves

And leave their hearts on the table

To be chopped and pickled when they’re feeling unstable

Stick a plaster on a chasm with a whisper in the dark

Never be together apart from when apart

Shine a torch in the eyes of a black dog

Turn a red mist into a pink fog

Rejoicing in the face of Danger

Find hope in the face of a good-looking stranger

Laugh at a fight, wondering if they might

Spit in the eyes of time or die trying

Listen to incessant obsessions on the importance of not lying

down in a bed that’s never seen clean sheets

With woodworm in the mattress and a pillow that creaks

Stand dumbfounded and downhearted

Trying to say what the thing is

Staring down eyes wide open and angry

About all the money and the feeling that’s slipped through your fingers

If at some point we should see that it’s all no good

To build your totems from flesh

And build your love from wood

If at some unspecified point in time

I should start to think I’m yours or believe that you’re mine

Make me a lover then from plasticine and playdough

Break my jaw and hurl me back into the tornado

I’d rather spin on the wind in a state of undress

Than lie like this

Crushed under a piano wondering what this is

We’re all that really matters all that matters is us

And this much is obvious

There’s no getting away

No game playing to make each other stay

This is the way a world ended up ending

Not with a whisper but an engine starting

That’s the way a universe found itself expanding

No big bang just a sigh of misunderstanding

We’re all that really matters and all that I can see

Are your wooden hands carving a mix in me.