sirens from voice memos by Jinx Genevieve

the shadow on brick of the harsh fire escapes
almost down to the sidewalk, still three feet away
and in cases of emergency i’d lower you first
‘cause you mean more than i ever will

the shriek of the sirens, they’re wailing for help
so every car parts in the black metal ocean
we all taste the urgency and it tastes like hell
on earth - but we already live there

fewer sirens now than years ago, but the shadows are cast every afternoon
and i catastrophize, monologue at the ceiling, knowing you’ll be home soon
the “what if”s circle round like starved birds wanting more, like they know i want you
questions unresolved ‘cause i ask hundreds more, but i know the answer is always you

the window is open, the neighbors are fighting
i close it, they sound like you and me
but i hate how when it’s silent, the heavy air reminds me
of your judgment filled gaze carving bone deep

the friends on the train, shouting enthusiastically
laughing with each other, we’re not privy to their jokes
we’d once been their age, all careless, no faculties
it hurts to feel like i got old

lived here my whole life and the cast didn’t change ‘til you stepped on the set then stepped off
haven’t seen you in a while but when i step outside onto the street, i hope our paths cross again
there’s nowhere to go round here except down but i don’t know if we take the same routes
‘cause i’m spiraling constantly but you’ve got it all figured out, i think you’d do it more neatly

i find i miss the fighting when there’s nothing else to miss,
‘cause if we fought at least that meant we were talking
and after the screaming match you’d hold me on the comedown
and we’d both say we’re sorry, knowing it’s not the last time

so when i see the shadows you pointed out to me on the first time you woke up at my place
and they’re neatly identical, never not parallel, i hate that nothing but you has changed
the same routines for all of us, we both go to work, you sleep soundly at night and i can't without you
and the ever-present sirens ring out in the silent night and i wish you were here to make up where they were going to

• Acoustic
• indie folk
• singer-songwriter
• New York