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november 19th, 1989 - qixote lyrics

[verse 1]
what if i already ate twenty-five?
what if all of my twenty-five years on this planet
i’ve handled a plate full of flies in the bellies
of amphibians i despise?
what if all of my life (plus the lives of the men
with my eyes who all died with my mind
on their minds) i’ve been swallowing blood
on the legs; shoving toes to the head
into my slowly rotting insides?
what do you want from me, woman?
apart from the apartment in brooklyn
(which you refused to step foot in)
i purchased christmas gifts for the children
what do you want from me? presents or presence?
i can’t give you both unless you move in
yes, it’s a lot to ask you to leave another country
but wasn’t that the the plan? wasn’t that the movie
we were writing? tell me honestly how do you like it‑
sleeping with chicken marrow up in your stomach‑
night after night while your kids imagine their lunches?

[chorus]
well alright—i might have had a couple kids
with some different gyales
i might have bought a crib
in a different país
i had an accident;
i’m driving a diablo rojo
baby, please don’t be so melancholy
i can make you fit
into the frame up in my locket
so don’t you have a fit
take the balboas from my pocket
buy yourselves plane tickets
and come live on sixth and broadway
make yourselves invisible—
like shame up in my conscious
i ain’t got no shame no shame no shame
i ain’t got no shame no shame no shame
i ain’t got no shame no shame no shame
eat that frog? no way, no no no

[verse 2]
what if i already ate thirty-eight?
what if all of my thirty-eight years in this pit called the earth
i have fit entire dishes—from lips to the waist—
i am sick of the taste of kermit and his waste
what if all of my days (plus the days of the men with my face
who all faced their own fates for my sake), i’ve been
swallowing toads still alive, shoving foot to the brain
to my tainted palate?
you’re the mother of the hombre with the knapsack
standing at my door and asking, “father, can we backtrack
a bit?” saying, “father, my dignity—you can have that
long as you don’t pat my back and tell your friends, “i had that
hombres.”
you’re the ex-spouse of a mouse of a man with one house
and two families—with a snout ever-damaged by pounds
of white dandelion breath
like a louse, won’t you salvage what’s left?

- qixote lyrics

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