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Justin Peter Kinkel-Schuster
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Painting Houses
There's a howling in my veins
Driving nails out in the rain
I can't stand to feel that feeling
Pushing ink around revealing
A new old pain
There's a crying in my shame
That's always been the same
I can't stand to face that music
That comes so easy
When I'm leaving again
What's the point of al the walls
I've been building in my head?
I'd do better painting houses instead
There's a memory in my name
That's black as Miller's Cave
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I can't stand to face that weather
That comes rolling in no matter
Where I stay
What's the point of all the calls
That I've been making to the dead?
I'd do better to just hang up instead
Don't take it out on them
They're only trying to comfort you
And help you in some kind of way
Don't take it out on them
They're only trying to set you free
And help you in some kind of way
It's another kind of living today
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