A Bowl Collecting Blood - Emmy The Great

Home is where I thought I was

I must have been asleep.

I saw you picking fists of red and green

And some of them you keep,

And some you throw away

You always were a waste

You take more than you need

And now I’m

Afraid to close my eyes,

The air is full of ice.

Reminds me of the winter in your smile.

You looked for what was his

Took what he would give

Played 'till you were tired,

And when you had enough

You threw him out in the cold like a hair coming off of a brush

When you were finished you know he was nobody else’s to love

And I remember he told me every time you touched,

Your skin was like

A bowl collecting blood.

I know he’s gone.

I know he went away

I know he couldn’t take

The sight of all those bodies in your wake

You’re pretty like a snake

You’re pretty like the ground

'cause once you pull them in

You know they’re never coming out

So shake another hip

And then you take another scalp

And they go out in the cold like the hair coming off of a brush

When you are finished you know they are nobody else’s to love

And I remember he told me that every time that you touched

Your skin

Was like a bowl collecting blood.