The gutter procession,nit's a slow depression.nAnd my tree becomes a skeleton,nit's ghost haunts the front yard.nA stone wall to stand you up,na sidewalk to lead you on.nnMemories gather in the street below,nthe candles you lit let the end be told.nUnlike the poem I wrotenand stapled to your wall.nn'Cause the rain has not yet fallennand the morning's yet to come.nThe evening saves its miserynfor the end to set the sun.nAnd the hollow calls.nnI'm eating pomegranate seedsnon the sidewalk of my street,nborn to breathe in tragedy.nI'm raking leaves,nthey won't stop falling on me,nthey're always falling on me.nnBetween the brick,nbeyond the bars.nIt's what you were,nnot who you are.nThe closet locks,nthe windows close.nThe voice it callsnand anyway it's all I know.nSo if your followingnwell then let's go.nCome on fall into the hollows.nn'Cause the rain has not yet fallennand the morning's yet to come.nThe evening saves its miserynfor the end to set the sun.nAnd the hollow calls.