A confession.

Lyrics

I don’t know where to start so I’ll start here.
I killed Marry Me Margret. I put a knife in her neck and here’s why.
See I got two hands and they don’t belong to me. They belong to everybody and this one here is the hand that heals and it’s good and soft and this other is the hand that takes and it’s grey and calloused and cramps up when the girls are walking by.
And together they keep the balance for the benefit of all. You included.
But I cut this one in the early morning peeling away the rotting side of a peach and I should have known better but she was down the street hollering, “Marry me this, and Marry me that,” and the words whipped over me like a cat’s tongue and I said,
“I’ll marry you, yes I will.”
 

I don’t know if it was legal cause she did the ceremony herself and we got a room on the third floor of The Palisade.
And the healing hand it’s under her sweater having the best day of its life but the other is red raw and jealous and always knows where the knife is.