It’s so vague just like the weather now it’s laid the seasons off. Even the words inside my pens have never come out as they should. All I need in my life is someone to tell me that I’m right, even if I’m wrong at least I’ll have some certainty.

I’ll be slap happy with my eyes all stapled shut while you’re preparing for this future that has already begun, and we’re still saving all our china for the most beautiful day when we should get it out and let the music play.

Gouging out my conscience, it’s leading me astray. I’ll only face the music when there’s nothing left to face and when I finally hit the shit, yeah I’ll be smiling in my grave, at least I’ve made the trip and that’s something to say. With all the photographs I took along the way.

And now we’re like objects, bumper-stickered to hell. And we sell all our lives as well. Damn our brothers who sailed out to sea, I’m kicking and I’m screaming but he won’t save me. And we buy and buy, and we sell and sell, and sell all our wealth. It’s like we can’t fucking help it but own everything, and every second is sold to the gods up above. Enslaved to the books that out fathers thought up. And we buy and we buy and we sell and we sell and we sell all our wealth. And we buy and we buy and we sell and buy our way into hell.

I’ll wait round for a while. Maybe these tangles in our traction will soon uncoil or maybe we’ll see the day when the moon drifts away and the sun kicks us right out the door

Dismiss all my mistrust today, I’ve been leaving teeth marks in every penny I’ve received and I’m returning all the phone calls I pretended you’d made while you pretend you’ve had your number changed.

Switching the light bulbs in heaven and yeah its an eyeful of childhood stained metaphor and fame, and when we finally hit the switch, oh I just woke up and prayed because there was ketchup spilling from my veins. Dying dumb and desperate for a destiny today.

And I’m having trouble seeing eye to eye with my own mind, and I’m having trouble coming to terms with my desires, and I’ve got so much to say but I sleep with an itchy tongue. Yeah the method in this madness disappears as time goes on. We’re losing our marbles and losing our lunches and living in fear of being sober on evenings. I’ve started a race that I just cannot win in, we’ve conquered the world but there’s nobody in it. And we scream and kiss and cry and hug and try to fill the hours up but nothing ever covers up the truth that’s there when I wake up. I want to start a war to kill some fucking time. I wish I gave a shit but I’m bored out of my mind.