Social Wedding Rings

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."