The Moon - Pile

I used to spend my days howling at the moon

Draining glass, gathering gravel on my tooth

Not much has changed in the way that that world moves

Except now the moon howls too

We can talk ourselves into a headache

No one’s trying to kill us on purpose

Someday we’ll read the news on the porch

Until then we’ll have to move

We’ll get some rest some time this afternoon

Where we can bake in some light that ends too soon

If it weren’t for the night i’d never leave my room

But now i get pulled in by the moon