If Only We Could Fund the Arts

The wind's a brush Her hair's the leaves Roots are rivers Rich as Thebes Meet me there At one-fifteen Where do you like to go When you can't sleep I close my eyes Play the part Read the lines Even when it's dark Trace the glyphs Where you left your mark If only we could Fund the arts On the other side of midnight On the other end of town Soliloquies and cigarettes And shuffling on the ground The local mausoleum Has a body on display It was the finest broken guitar Ever made I would love you Past the tomb I would love you In my womb And if you lie I lie too That's true I can't get my Wick to start But I'm convinced God changed their heart Every time I see the sparks If only we could Fund the arts On the other side of midnight On the other end of town Soliloquies and cigarettes And shuffling on the ground I hope you feel the friction Every time I turn the page Like the finest broken guitar Ever made If only we could fund the arts