Illinois, where the tracks get wide
Hiawatha and the sun is shining
Little Seven Up poured on stomach lining
It will settle down in time
Took the change jar from the entryway
While you were busy piling up your rage
Into a hill to climb to should at God
And rub your pink scars in his face
Baby, nothing’s fair we bet against the house
And you got drunk and said our love was doubt doubled down
Now the table’s turning over; the fall is falling through
I miss you like the old songs up loud the way we used to do
If I could still live inside your occupied mind

The week the dog went deaf I called for her all night
When I found her I stared into her big, dumb eyes and mouthed “everything’s all right”

Panic in the quiet; tinnitus chiming
Like the hangers in your closet banging wire on wire
Tinkling together like when you left the first time
Pacing room to empty room
Gathering all the clues you left for me to find
If I could still live inside your occupied mind