The Throat

I remember all the gestures And the things that you would say Of the bleakness in the winter Never talked about in day That it's always indifferent Always solemn and blue But the words that spilled out of your mouth Never seemed to come from you And I know that there's a difference Between persistence and resistance But I think for right now All that matters in this instance Is that time isn't kind It's been nine years I think All the swallows in the darkness All the sadness in the drink And when you see me calling Do you wish it wasn't me Do you think of someone else When my head's between your knees Are you worried that I'm wrong Or that you're too fucked up Are you simply sick and tired And have you had enough Do you wonder when it was When you last felt adored When you look and see the throat you have Do you forget that it's yours It's the throat that I've yearned for And the throat that I dreamed The throat that spat the words out And the throat that swallowed teeth But still you come To argue and sigh It's not what we wanted It's just what survives And when you stay We'll wallow and cry We're old and we're tired But we'll never die