Social Wedding Rings-Mount Moriah

In a motel room in Colorado Springs, We learned what impatience brings To women who fool around. That summer was a strung-out mess, And you swore to God you had the perfect fix, And a plan to get us out. You said, "Don't you turn around. Leave your strings at the door, And just walk out." I sat in the living room And watched your girlfriend pack her things To move away from you. Our record: Buffy Sainte-Marie, And we held hands and cried 'Til we couldn't see anything. You said, "Don't you turn around. You wouldn't like what you found here anyhow." So I took a red-eye from the Bay, Watched you watch the taxi pull away From Mission Street. The next time we would meet Would be a train wreck of nerves and sexless sleep. Mistakes made, empty hymns. I said, "Don't you make a sound. Nothing's careful in desire, Especially now." There were no accidents; We asked for this. But the South is not out West. There's nothing gentle about Our stomachs full of gin. We are alive, and we have no regrets. In a farmhouse in the Piedmont Hills, We learned what impatience wills To women who fool around. If thievery has a voice to to sing It's the choice and sound of moving hands Over social wedding rings. I said, "Don't you turn around. Leave your strings at the door, And just walk out."