Dead Letter Office
from In Tongues by French Letters
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Buy the Full Digital Album
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Compact Disc (CD) + Digital AlbumThe physical copy of this album is packaged with a book of poems that are the lyrics to the 10 songs on the album, a necessary companion to get the full "In Tongues" experience of poetry and music.
Includes unlimited streaming of In Tongues via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.ships out within 2 daysedition of 400Purchasable with gift card$7 USD
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lyrics
Dead Letter Office
Just another note
for the dead letter office
I'm drunk again, talking
while you're hanging up the phone
This is a theme
I visit over and again
the one where you're not there
yet it's just as effective
to explain to the dial tone why I'm in love with you
Every message
every letter
every poem eventually
ends up here
in my dead letter office
This is what I meant when I said that I'm not finished
This is what I should have said when I didn't say anything at all
When I let you run to snap that deadbolt locked behind me
and I receded slowly down your hall
An accumulated library of personal loss
this drawer
overstuffed with the muck that I scribbled down on paper for you
when your voicemail couldn't record the urgent sentiment I had tried to convey
Eleven letters
nine poems
two people
one thing
I count these down on my fingers
until there are none left
RETURN TO SENDER
Left to ripen
unread and unopened
In this deep and overstuffed drawer gathering dust
Here lies the remnants of us
I'm not a writer
just a typist
Just another voice on the verge
or one more jumper on the ledge
I pirouette over the sharp edges
and mister, I can tell you
that's the only time I ever dance
Not a poem
just a jammed up scramble
of misinterpreted metaphor
A stripper for a blind man
a dollar for your time, thanks
Words get wet and beget their meanings
they get drunk and never listen
Mother warned of men with misaffection
but Mama, I am
I am that man
Never again
at least not in a metaphor
Sent words scrambling across the page
while my pen comes down like a bird of prey
Just another note
for the dead letter office
I'm drunk again, talking
while you're hanging up the phone
This is a theme
I visit over and again
the one where you're not there
yet it's just as effective
to explain to the dial tone why I'm in love with you
Every message
every letter
every poem eventually
ends up here
in my dead letter office
This is what I meant when I said that I'm not finished
This is what I should have said when I didn't say anything at all
When I let you run to snap that deadbolt locked behind me
and I receded slowly down your hall
An accumulated library of personal loss
this drawer
overstuffed with the muck that I scribbled down on paper for you
when your voicemail couldn't record the urgent sentiment I had tried to convey
Eleven letters
nine poems
two people
one thing
I count these down on my fingers
until there are none left
RETURN TO SENDER
Left to ripen
unread and unopened
In this deep and overstuffed drawer gathering dust
Here lies the remnants of us
I'm not a writer
just a typist
Just another voice on the verge
or one more jumper on the ledge
I pirouette over the sharp edges
and mister, I can tell you
that's the only time I ever dance
Not a poem
just a jammed up scramble
of misinterpreted metaphor
A stripper for a blind man
a dollar for your time, thanks
Words get wet and beget their meanings
they get drunk and never listen
Mother warned of men with misaffection
but Mama, I am
I am that man
Never again
at least not in a metaphor
Sent words scrambling across the page
while my pen comes down like a bird of prey
credits
from In Tongues,
released December 3, 2011
license
all rights reserved
tags
discography
-
Oct 2014 -
Dec 2013 -
Jan 2013 -
Aug 2012 -
Dec 2011
contact / help
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