Stephen Babcock - Bukowski

You just turn up
A tornado
Slipping thru
A sea of heads

And I watch you
Unassuming
Makes me
Wish that I was dead

As your hair falls
I remember
When you still had
It auburn red

Now at platinum
You still grab
Even if it's
All in my head

But I guess that tattoo suits you well
You even have
A new man under your spell
Traded Brooklyn
For that upper east shell

But I remember when you were reading Bukowski
Talking 'bout how you can live without me
I remember when you were reading Bukowski
Thinking this is how it should be

Well you're trying
And I see it
Hell, the small talk
Is still pretty good

How's your father?
He still out west?
You still hate the job
You got out of school?

Even if I
Wish you'd come back
Hell, even I can
Read between the lines

All this pleading
Never makes sense
Since you
Left me behind

But I guess that tattoo suits you well
You even have
A new man under your spell
Traded Brooklyn
For that upper east shell

But I remember when you were reading Bukowski
Talking 'bout how you can live without me
I remember when you were reading Bukowski
Thinking this is how it should be

I owe it all to Bukowksi

Written by:
Stephen Babcock

Publisher:
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