Local Natives

She flew across the sea
We talked on a small screen
A cubism dream
The most beautiful squares I'd ever seen
The canvas was free
A gift good mother gave to me
We joked at how they talked so differently
I will never know what had rot my heart
It just came and went in the dark
I had changed into the certain kind of man
That could break your heart with his own hands
We were to scan our own towns
And make good on what we found
Oh, what a fool I was to think
That I could get by on a smile and a wink