The Days Pianos Become the Teeth

You're quite the fire thrower
While I'm losing all of my sparks
Wasting, waiting for this invitation
As I drip into the horror

But I'm saving up everything I said for my remorseful days
Laying with my children with silence on my breath

You're quite the wild rose riler
While I'm drinking all the rain
Wasting, waiting for this revelation
As I crack through the floor

But I'm writing down everything you say for my dementia days
Laying with my children with whiskey on my breath

You're quite the fire, wild and lost
Went from golden to smoldering