Undone

Empty bottles on the coffee table.
Kitchen is a mess, there's no coca-cola left,
and I've seen the space between my dreams and reality,
as if I've come to terms with all the things I've done.
There's the miracle of grace;
There's the lingering taste
of last nights chinese take-away,
my existential tooth decay.
When all I am and who we are,
where we've been, our countless scars,
they haunt me, they haunt me...

Then I'm undone by you.
I'm undone by you.

Empty evenings around coffee tables;
self indulgent repartee, 'cause we all still believe
that our prejudice and hate -yesterdays editorial page-
will redeem us, that it can clean us.

But I'm undone by you.
I'm undone by you.

Empty bottles on the coffee table...
Empty bottles on the coffee table...