Talkshows and Ashtrays

Your face looks shattered every morning
In the broken bathroom glass.
Your milk is warm and coffee cold,
And you live like an outcast
With the shadow you mould;
Cut by broken blinds
That stay down
On fight night.

No one cries for you, John,
Not now you need them to.
No one cries for you, John,
Not those you wish would do.

Only when sunlight streams in the window,
Shows the wretched air you breathe,
Only then do you give a sigh,
And wonder why you want to leave,
Until a cloud comes by,
And you return to
Your talkshows
And ashtrays.

No one cries for you, John,
Like they cry for me.
No one cries for you, John,
Like Teddy cries for me.

I visit places you've only seen
In your flickering three-to-four.
They all said you were cruel to me,
Said I was worth so much more,
And they spoke truthfully.
I'm getting better:
I'm heartless,
Not heartbroke.

No one cries for you, John,
Save Jesus cries for thee.
Jesus cries for you, John,
Tears not of love but pity.

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by Matt