shut out, pimpled and angry
i quietly tied all ym guts into knots
gave up on trying to make them
i figured it'd take them too long to look up and besides

it was undeniably clear to me i don't know why
when every other part of life seemed locked behind shutters
i knew what worthless dregs we all are then

lucked out found my favorite records
lying in wait at the birmingham mall
the songs that i heard
the occasional book
were the only fun i ever took
and i got on with making myself
the trick is just making yourself

but when they're parking their cars on your chest
you've still got a view of the summer sky
to make it hurt twice when your restless body
caves to its whims
and suddenly struggle to take flight

three thousand miles north east
i left all my friends at the mornig bus stop shaking their heads
"what kind of life do you dream of? you're allergic to love"
yes i know but i must say in my own defense
it's been undeniably dear to me, i don't know why
when every other part of life seemed locked behind shutters
i knew the worthless dregs we are
the selfless, loving saints we are
the melting, sliding dice we've always been