In a MotelBack to Music
Lyrics by Alec Ounsworth
And so I left when I was just a boy
I swore I’d simply do it all over again
And now up the hill with snow-bit blue-tipped fingers, blood from falling
But I can’t go back there no more
In frozen poses, venues lined with pillows
Atlas shouldered some silly blunder or other
You ask for more than this
But I don’t know what more than this is
Is it a motel?
With a fashion magazine?
In between towns
I was thinking about my mother
And I wished ill upon myself
Rachel don’t come around here no more
I hear she’s living in Montana with her brother
I wish her the best
And I hope she can forget me
But the ghost that comes around is a dead-ringer for her
I see her in my nightmares discussing modern literature
With her hands around my neck
In a motel . . .