She lives on inside a cloneof whispers she left on your phoneand though you'll never be alonewith her she lingersYou play those whispers one by onethe heat the hurt then Chekhov's gunyou're a third act prop, bud, one amongthe necessary fingers There is no wound for you to healno letter waiting for your sealno lips … Continue reading Song To Pass The Time In Leonard Cohen Voice, Which Started As A Lark But Maybe I’ll Try To Work It Into Something (Unfinished)