Lodging

Diane, I know that I'm just a baby.

I've found the door, it makes sense to me.

In my room with curtains drawn.

In my world, there's something wrong.

Black timing, I see the truth.

In my lodging, I've thought it through.

And I suppose you put the needle on the record.

When there's a setting sun, it takes strength to remember.

The aftermath, the smiling bag.

That the lodge is black.

Where's Pulaski at?

Where's Jacobi at?

I was told, twenty years ago,

On the Northern shore,

Bob unfolds.

No more, I implore.