Uncorrected Proofs The Weakerthans

The mirrors and the unacknowledged nods
Dial tones and license plates
The words you didn't choose

Everything the day's too small to hold
Spills on to the dusk
And shorts the evening's fuse

So you fumble for a voice
And sing happy birthday

Read it to yourself again
The stories always end the same
He can't stay and she won't run
And fear is where they're calling from

Staunch the blood from countless tiny cuts
We're all out of bandages
The heaters' rattle, taunt

Sifting through translucent shards of glass
Looking for a filament
That lit the life you want

So you stumble for the phone
Grasp the cord and pull