Brush Our Teeth

Set down next to our dying star
With a telescope and a clumsy jaw
I write a book to feed the fire
I exercise before the riot

On the back porch we've got big ideas
Our father's eyes, our mother's fear
This has been our finest year
I find your waist and bring you near

We make sure we have both wept
We start feeling when we last slept
Coffee makes my stomach bend
But I want to be awake when the whole world ends

I get all my old film developed
And see some people
I haven't seen in years

I buy some food then have to sell it
I need that money
For newspapers

For some reason we go to church
There's people there who know our earth
Our ears are dry so nothing sticks
We come home with a crucifix

Let the animals out their cage
Drink and smoke like half our age
We get nervous and start to clean
We get quiet and brush our teeth

I shut down the house and go outside
I swear I never ever felt more alive
Than when I was dying
And she's replying

"Hurry up, into cellar"
Bless this make-believe bomb shelter
A morning meal, a lifetime work
Left to age on the surface

Down there we just talk and spit
Laugh when we both have to shit
Try to feel like nothing's wrong
Waiting for the atomic bomb