Testo Cinnamon Bread

Infinite Jest and cinnamon bread
Why don't you make yourself at home
When you open up you close me in
And cut me to the bone
Close as a kiss on the lip
To the southern tip
Until you were red in the face
Now you’ve got nothing to say Now you've got nothing to say

Spring, Summer, Fall
You were standing tall
Winning all of your basketball games
You galloped on the piano keys
Like a Liberace fool
You hummed a little out of tune
And somehow you sounded cool
Like in like May, June, July
I was a good guy
And you came over that day
Now I've got nothing to say
I’ve must have left open the gate
And now the dog is running away
If this goes on forever
Could you ever keep me safe
Like all the men you have loved
The women you have loved
You tell me this when we're together
When I know it's not the case
Cause all the men you have loved
The women you loved
They all got something to say
They all got something to say
They couldn't keep me away