Gone like he was never here, Mr. Harley...

Swept up with the waves
and the dirt on my liivng room floor
bones,tissues,the pamphlet that came with the christmas lights...
plastic bag,furs and gourmet sugar packs...
oh... and you...
i'll sweep you up.

Your numbers and that familiar grin that i so longed to own
your
contacts
and
that dark-though-so-damn-clean persona that i wanted to belong
oh how i'll miss that feeling of thinking so surely that you were of the species that i believe must exist
and how i see through what is next well through the next of that
you have no idea how much i know you
though a stranger
i know you, mister sire...

in my memory you lay future played
and i resent you though you've done no wrong.
yet.
in my memory i see you words falsofied and so adored till the day when yesterday will happen.

but i'll cut it short.
save you the game.
save me those hate.

your number, was swept up.