No Joy from Post Preservation by Palm Ghosts

When he came in I remembered
Father said that it’s for sissies and I screamed half ashamed
That he might be right, if the tears were
for him or the tear It’s all lost on me

But not my last time
But the worst time still
I get no joy from people these days

But life keeps on moving, keeps passing,
Another wave goodbye to all the life
And my words, collecting dust and still hold their meaning
Never uttered and never reasoned
Bleeding through sutures from the first time

There are no ears at the phone
Just a man typing till a faint ghost was all I heard
Yet I knew in the effort, the will to speak
Would be deceiving still
I get no joy from people these days

Life keeps moving I keep dreaming
fingers tugging at the age Of my eyes, rife, listless and blank,
Still searching, still reading Into everything that could be anything
I’ve got life but little else to show

One hand to
Measure pulse the other on the till,
Commodity for anyone who ever grieved their way
To mass appeal
Sounds odd calculated
Not emotional still
I get no joy from people these days

So this is life, routine demands and medications
waiting breaking lips shape breath that gives life it keeps moving
Slashing fingers
Past pictures with no gravity
The smaller the world the bigger the pull till Im so far
Above it that
Wistful fool
Keeps moving I keep dreaming, waiting

I get no joy from people these days
I get no joy from people these days
I get no joy from people these days

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