song: Crumble written by: Sage Francis album: A Healthy Distrust label: Epitaph Records they’ve said it every year, but this time it seems like the end is near and i’m in line to see the light. how far does this black tunnel go? i’ve got a car, but the gas is running low. and as long as i’ve known the bumps and creeks of this house, it’s starting to make the types of sounds that only come from people’s mouths. you can’t tell me it’s still settling… built on an indian burial ground killing everything. the childhood scar on my chin is back again. that old jump-over-my-own-leg dance move has to end. i’ve seen better days in my night terrors. i was a bike messenger without a bike and i would write letters. then ask directions to your whereabouts before the slow walk. the rest of the showoffs were peeling out. too many hares, but only one tortoise. that’s why i left the city—too fast pace for this ho-hum tourist. by the time i developed the pictures they were as blurry as my memory of constant life fixtures. if distance is a girl’s best friend… tell them bitches in the rough who think that love comes with diamonds. slave labor. you made me work for what i couldn’t have. diamonds cut but coal burns. nothing lasts forever. i wonder why i bothered saving any of your letters. they’re just aged paper. crumble. slave labor. you made me work for what i couldn’t have. diamonds cut but coal burns. nothing lasts. i wonder why i saved your urn of ashes. i’ve got an insecurity box to save your mail. tracing the name on the return address as if it was made of braille. pretended it was your finger but careful not to be breaking a nail. the one that sealed the coffin shut. when it opened up it caused a paper trail. but since then i buried your dead sea scrolls and emptied my head of these old trivial memories that i seem to hold. now you’re a foot note with cement shoes. in case you wonder what that sinking feeling has been ever since i left you. Less