Lyrics Politics Of Grooming - Slaughter Beach, Dog

I know the you when you are getting dressed
Is not the you I′ve really come to know
She speaks in shorter phrases
And she often can't remember
Which impulsive words were emitted as response

But it′s not as selfish or as spanned attention
Rather preference for the politics of grooming
Hell I'd paint my face and fingers
And my toes and lips and eyelids
If it meant tonight I didn't have to think about the future
Just to fixate my attention on a wooden powder pencil
Not a single thought devoted
To whatever′s on outside the house
Or even past the door your mother′s bathroom
Where we're sitting
And surviving on the steadiness of passing time

So when the lines are drawn and all the powders matted
You′ll be standing there blinking at your image
And you wished that it would turn around
And do what it's supposed to
But reflections do not turn themselves away

When you were younger and your mother started drinking
She would tuck you in and close your bedroom door
Then one day you sprung awake
Inside a turning twisted dream
And you ran downstairs to find her laying out across the floor
She did not hear you softly crying near
Or feel your mouth all hot against her ear
So you kissed her like she taught you
And for the first time on a head you got up and tucked your own self in the bed

So when the lines are drawn and all the powders matted
You′ll be standing there blinking at your image
And you wished that it would turn around
And do what it's supposed to
But reflections do not turn themselves away

Yeah you wished that you would turn around
And do what you′re supposed to
But it's easier to blink and stare and stay