One Of My Turns

Day after day

Love turns gray

Like the skin on a dying man

Night after night

We pretend it's all right

But I have grown older

And you have grown colder

And nothing is very much fun, anymore

And I can feel

One of all my turns coming on

I feel

Cold as a razor blade

Tight as a tourniquet

Dry as a funeral drum

Run to the bedroom

In the suitcase on the left

You'll find my favorite axe

Don't look so frightened

This is just a passing phase

One of my bad days

Would you like to watch TV?

Or get between the sheets?

Or contemplate the silent freeway?

Would you like something to eat?

Would you like to learn to fly?

Would you like to see me try?

Would you like to call the cops?

Do you think it's time I stopped?

Why are you running away?