Letter Of Resignation (from Split w/ F.Y.P.)

Takes a dried up ball-point, lemon juice and water, keeps diary invisibly
In the kitchen corner of a basement bachelor suite
There's a certain search for certainty
You know we'll never see her hands touch her childhood home in photos that she took
It's one more omission from a high school history book
How whole lives are knifed and pushed aside

To whom it may concern
(To whom it may concern)
There's a bus that's leaving half an hour from now
(This is to inform)
It won't take her where she really wants to go
(Yours, sincerely yours)
So she sits there with her luggage at her side
(Yours, sincerely yours)
In the empty stations of our empty lives

Take a broken bottle, take a rafter beam or take a needle and a tarnished spoon
All just words to kill off one more unheard statement in another dying afternoon
She says she's leaving soon
So long to ten hour shifts and faking sympathies
Farewell to piles of bills, unpaid utilities
All rolled up and unfurled like a flag
Wake up and pack your bag

To whom it may concern
(To whom it may concern)
There's a bus that's leaving half an hour from now
(This is to inform)
It won't take her where she really wants to go
(Yours, sincerely yours)
So she sits there with her luggage at her side
(Yours, sincerely yours)
In the empty stations of our empty lives

"It's like being sick all the time, I think. Coming home from work, sick in that low-grade continuous way that makes you forget what it's like to be well. We have never in our lives known what it is to be well. What if I were coming home, I think, from doing work that I loved and that was for us all? What if I looked at the houses and the air and the streets, knowing they were in accord, not set against us? What if we knew the powers of this country moved to provide for us and for all people? How would that be? How would we feel and think and what would we create?"