Cinnamon Bread

Infinite jest and cinnamon bread Why don't you make yourself at home? When you open up, you close me in And cut me to the bone Close as a kiss on the lip To the southern tip Until you're red in the face Now you've got nothing to say Now you've got nothing to say Spring, summer, fall You were standing tall Winning all of your basketball games You galloped on the piano keys Like a liberace fool You hummed a little out of tune And somehow you sounded cool I can't lie May, June, July I was a good guy Then you came over that day Now I've got nothing to say I must've left open the gate Now the dog is running away If this goes on forever Could you ever keep me safe? Like all the men you've loved The women you've loved You tell me we're in this together When I know it's not the case 'Cause all the men you've loved The women you've loved They all got something to say They all got something to say It couldn't keep me away