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Talking Like Turnstiles

Sometimes, I talk like a turnstile

When I have had too much to drink

A tangled tongue like English Ivy

Just like a film dubbed out of syncThe phone is ringing in the guest room

A muffled voice on the machine

It's either someone I don't want to talk to

Or someone selling what I don't need

As I'm waiting for you to come on homeSometimes, I fall in fits of laughter

My bottle shatters on the floor

And you apologize profusely

For the drunkard on the lawnI'll change, love, change

I'll change for you

Because even slurred words

Can contain some truth

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