Braille by Regina Spektor

A soul-filled narrative by a woman with a beautifullllll voice.

"She was lying on the floor and counting stretch marks
She hadn't been a virgin and he hadn't been a god
so she named the baby Elvis
to make up for the royalty he lacked

And from then on it was turpentine and patches
From then on it was cold Campbell's from the can
They were just two jerks playing with matches
'Cause that's all they knew how to play

And it was raining cats and dogs outside of her window
And she knew they'd be destined to become
sacred roadkill on the way
And she was listening to the sound of heaven shaking
thinking about puddles, puddles and mistakes

'Cause it's been turpentine and patches
It's been cold, cold Campbell's from the can
And they were just two jerks playing with matches
'Cause that's all they knew how to play
What they knew how to play

Elvis never could carry a tune
and she thought about this irony as she stared back at the moon
She was tracing her years with her fingers on her skin saying,
Well, why don't I begin again
with turpentine and patches
with cold, cold Campbell's from the can
After all I'm still a jerk playing with matches
It's just that he's not around to play along
yeah, I'm still an asshole playing with candles
Blowing out wishes, blowing out dreams
Just sitting here and trying to decipher what's written in Braille upon my skin..."

I love her metaphors. They were just two kids playing with matches--they never knew they were going to start a fire. "Lying on the floor and counting stretch marks" reminds me of counting the rings of a tree to find it's age. Also, braille is written via raised bumps that form patterns. So, wrinkles and scars and stretch marks can be "braille" marked on her skin, reminding her of all she's been through.