Bleeding black sheep boy
Mirror in pieces
Turn the receiver
Trace the police station line to my number
and number my reasons for this paranoia
For these accusations
For each night that the numbers
paired off like lovers
collided together so I can't remember my name or my nation
Baying black sheep boy

go back beyond the pasture
you've cracked out of my head
Get in your battered mustang
and the backseat will be your bed

Burning black sheep boy
dark denim phantom
face full of flames
ears full of cheers that have fanned them
I'd slice off the horns that sprung right from those temples
I was chased from that bedroom and chased from those candles by fear of the numbers
paired off like lovers

collided together so I can't remember my face or my station
Pacing black sheep boy
The floor just won't support you
you hover through the room
Get in your battered mustang and the backseat will be your tomb

And I rode into Baltimore and I found a hotel room
where I tried to escape you but the phone line wouldn't go through
And inside the mirror I saw you
stamping, staring out
I don't recognize your eyes, your mouth or any of those lines that come flying out
Nothing I've heard from you sounds sane or safe: words falling down from the ceiling
where the mirror is stealing the light to reveal us both tonight
and we're both kneeling in the
"black pool of your shadow"
You've cracked out of my head
Go back beyond the pasture
or I'll smash your mirror 'til you're dead

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