For your birthday, I made love to a stranger With a bottle of dandelion wine; Spent the evening with New Orleans classics, Swearing that Paris was mine.
For an encore I fell down on Ninth Street And swore at the top of my lungs, "Lash me with cloven and iron-clad feet, Come trample me with your tongues!"
The men in their dirty toboggans And blankets spread on the sidewalk Stared at my insolence, stared at my pride, Stared at my face, white as chalk.
And everyone says That you are not dead, As long as you live in my heart. But they'll go to hell, Because I am not well; And I don't even know where to start! But I can tell you that I'm Marking the Time.
I threw up on our anniversary: The seafood just didn't agree. The doctor's exam was just cursory, But the damage was a hundred and three.
Later I dreamt I was back on Wellbutrin, Depakote, Paxil, and worse. I swear there was one that was named for Rasputin; His famous and mythical curse!
But even the mania isn't as bad As the silence when no voices talk. It screams of my insolence, screams at my pride, Screams with a face white as chalk.
And everyone says That you are not dead, As long as you live in my heart. But they'll go to hell Because it's dead as well, And the rest of my life's come apart. And I can tell you that I'm Keeping the Time.
Fat Tuesday, I let them evangelize, And I spend a week clean of the bars. On Easter and Christmas, I stab at my thighs; It's easier to hide the scars.
There's a red tie I wear on All Hallow's Eve; And a matching kerchief for my tears. Thanksgiving I let myself fast as I grieve, And you wouldn't believe my New Year's.
When they ask if I'll come to the party, Is it any surprise that I balk? Consider my insolence, consider my pride, Consider my face white as chalk
When everyone says That you are not dead, As they see how I'm coming apart. When my face looks like hell! And the words come as well. And I don't even know where to start; But I can tell you that I'm Only Marking the Time.
19 May 2000 .. 7 June 2000