stand for the silent bride maidens in crimson drapes bottle it up inside till it explodes and washes over rows of everyone attending sad midwestern baptist girl writes sorry on the mirror crying in bathroom on the first night of the honeymoon it numbs you like the colors in the waiting room once it was smile and wave someone you barely knew now its a shower and shave and a new excuse for every time you come in after hours cover blown you try to own too many indiscretions you break it off and tell him that youre sorry that he never knew it hounds you like the soundtrack in the waiting room out on a great crusade under a million stars focusing on your face with the lines and creases coming on like u s grant took richmond bonafide but trapped inside a shell that says to hell with you you pour it out and hope that someone notices before its through it rides you like the silence in the waiting room