Remember The Millers

how’s the city ?

i would die to be right there and live that life

but new york’s cold,

i can’t do cold

i went missing, for a while

and took weird pills

with dendrophiles

and if this holds 

may all your art find homes

i found Ida laid out dead

with your face glued on her chewed-up head

a strange man sat bedside knitting

woke up on the ground of my kitchen

we had something you and i

my bones felt so clean, my skin had life

i cried tears so sweet i’d lick em’

god, those days of old—how i miss em’, all right

when The Millers took me in

the night you left, i chased dragons

i’ll close my eyes

and whisper to myself, i ask that you pray for me sometime

i mean god,

im making a mess

i told everyone you died

maybe i yearn for the people we were

how’s the city

i would die to be right there and live that life

but new york’s cold,

i can’t do cold