The Last Days of December Lyrics

What shall we tell them?
A honeymoon brief as a walk in the park -

What shall we tell them when they ask? - and they'll ask -
Could you not see another way out?
Was the place without sun, was it furnished in black?
With the ache of the gas-oven there at your bath,
a death-angel paces in boredom and waits,
it shrieks from dark corners undermining your faith

What shall we tell them when they ask? - and they will ask -
Could you not see another way out?

Where were the cape and the coast-line,
the wonder-kid's sunshine?
Your sanity shattered in climbing the walls -
Wet towels at the floor-lines, stuffed under the doors,
and the beating of powder-black wings left you blind

The last days of December are the loneliest kind

In the exit you made there was no pause for thought -
Cause the lies that I told were the lies that you bought,
there was no place to find you, no you to be found -
In the margins of books you were reading,
there were stages to grieving -
that won't let you down

Where was the coast-line,
the wonder-kid's sunshine?

Under northern skies, anonymous and free,
your night-fisherman pushes a boat out to sea
You'll surely meet shores though his faith is unsound

There are stages to grieving that won't let you down