Spiders are singing in the salty breeze
Spiders are filling out tax returns
Spinning out webs of deductions and melodies

On a private beach in Michigan

Why can't they wish their kisses good

Why do they miss when their kisses should
Fly like winging birds fighting for the keys
On a private beach in Michigan


This recent rash of kidsmoke
All these telescopic poems

It's good to be alone

Why can't they say what they want

Why can't they just say what they mean
Come clean, listen and talk
Hello private callers, IDs blocked


The sun will rise, we'll climb into cars
The future has a valley and a shortcut around

Who will wear the crown of drowning award
Hold a private light on a Michigan shore


You fool me with a kiss of kidsmoke
From a microscopic home
It's good to be alone


I'll be in my bed
You can be the stone

That raises from the dead
And carries us all home


There's no blood on my hands
I just do as I am told