Small crimes
Smiles stretched on old trees
Strike your match so lightly
Watch the crooked smoke rise
Empty praters to heaven
Just a mask of blue sky
Look away to
Small crimes
Kick the dog for eating
Leave your old self hungry
Watch in coldest pleasure
Tell the world what
Ever turns you on is fine with me as long as
Matches don't get wet
Warm winds calling me a coward make me smile
They can't convince me now
Burned prayers turn me on to nowhere sick and empty
I don't feel so bad
Ever turns around again says to me softly
Start the fire now
Small crimes
Sever used-up old considerations
Freedoms not so great
All fears burn up
They said
Hold on to the stairway railing
Meaning
Everything is meaning
Something
Makes it hard to keep track
Hold on
Found me tangled forest
Growing
Got my driest summer
Small crimes
Held my match box tightly