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Eviction Notice

from Personal Journals by Sage Francis

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lyrics

“I’m fuckin' doin' it...
This song is called Eviction Notice. It's a two-parter
It's about how drugs are the gateway to fun and flat laugh lines *Beeeeeeep*”
There's effort in her smile and it shouldn't be that way
Her last days are being snuffed out in an ashtray, and that's pricey Trying to intercept the passing away, I've asked nicely
But I've learned not to feed the hand that bites me
This morning the cradle rocks the hand
As I bang on pots and pans
She's just playing in her warning-labeled box again
She wants a man I can look up to. A role model to come through Don't bother unpacking your car-
cinogen-filled thrill sticks. This girl will spit fire
Got me doing pirouettes over her guilt tripwire
I still skip by a land mine or two. See, I've learned the landscape All the while practicing my firm handshake
Hair-trigger finger itch to spark any conversation
Said explosive personalities don't want deadly confrontation What happens in between her lips
She needs a fix more than she knows
Her friend's a bitch and needs to go
There's a note on the door
"Listen, one of us is leaving

And when I say ‘us’ I mean YOU... YOU'RE leaving”
“You're leaving...”
“You're leaving"
I'm in the house y'all, I'm in the house y'all
And ain't no little piece of paper gonna kick me out y'all! I'm in the house, I'm in the house
And ain't no legal separation gonna kick my ass out
I'm in the house y'all, I'm in the house y'all
And ain't no new boyfriend gonna kick me out, y'all! Fuck that, I'm in the house. I'm in the house
Ain't no snot-nosed brat gonna kick my ass out
Pick me!
Please leave me believe me please leave me believe me please Please leave me believe me please leave me please leave me be
“This song is called Eviction Notice. It's a two-parter
Basically it's about how sacrifice and vices will invite themselves To an overstayed welcome at your haunted house parties”
There's effort in her smile and it shouldn't be like that
Her final evenings have her drowning in a nightcap, and that's costly
Trying to keep her on the right track, I ask softly
But she just says "BACK OFF ME." And I've learned to space her private respect She breathes some room to need and every afternoon proceeds
To mix her liquid sitter while preparing baby food to feed
She wants a man I can look up to. A mentor. Fuck you.
Get your things packed
Yes, kids. The poison *is* the message in the bottle
Before the dawn she'll have to kill
All fetal positions by ingesting a morning-after pill
Crawling fast until I get rewarded for how good I've behaved
While practicing my goodbye wave
Should I stay after planning my escape routes?
Shouting out, "Is there a lifeguard in the lighthouse?"
To the rescue, bottle mouth-to-mouth between her lips she sips
She needs a fix more than she knows.
Her friend's a bitch and there's a note on the door

credits

from Personal Journals, released April 16, 2002
Beat by Odd Nosdam.

license

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