I keep in my pocket some radioactive waste,
That way I know, that way I know this won't happen again,
I keep in my locket a picture of perfect confined to a face,
That way I know, that way I know she's who she claims,
And my concept of beauty, its not just the standard names,
None of the painted, none of the ossified, none of the fame.

But it's not like something that matters,
Like a comet entering your space,
Causing extinction, splitting the moon on its way.
When I close my eyes, motionless and safe,
I make up a smell, make up a voice, make up a name
To attach to her face.

And I keep in my stomach, an ulcer of hope dripping with rage,
That way I know, that way I feel you enter my veins,
And I follow the pathways, but they always converge at the same place,
The road not taken is just the same as the usual way,
And my eyes in their sockets see all of these things that don't compute in my brain,
And that's why I feel, that's why I act so out place.

But it's not like something that matters,
Like a comet entering your space,
Causing extinction, splitting the moon on its way.
When I close my eyes, motionless and safe,
I make up a smell, make up a voice, make up a name
To attach to her face.