Paul Dempsey
Bats
Come rebuild your memory with a small mountain of burning leavesand a swinging wire door that slams shut like a guillotinestrum a note up in the wiresto send bats down the river, seagulls around spiresand shred all the twilight, scatter it city-wideThose average angelsthe drunken saints with heavy headsThey can keep dreaming, dreaming of sleep down the end of the bedbut nobody's ever gonna break your heart againAnd the high-pitched, crooked thoughtsthat ricocheted off the wallsshe just set them down quiet, safe in her dresser drawershe laid me out on the laundromat floorand said "You'll be not nearly who you were anymoreand I'll always be here to remind you what time is for"And those average angelsthe drunken saints with heavy headsyou see their spirits are cowering under the tableand they're still counting, counting the breaths under their breathbut nobody's evernobody's ever gonna break your heart again
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