please keep my head below the clouds this time
or tear it from my spine
it's been few hours and a couple of days
since i began my slow and slippery phase
of listening without learning
and crashing without burning
i've got nothing left to show and tell
so it's time to lie and sell
after a few kisses and a couple of stitches
i made my home in a far away cave
full of coughing and dripping
and pouring and sipping
i havent yet found a kid thats quite like you
and i don't think i really want to
we've been sitting in the back of the car
for just about seven days so far
and you're not giving what i'm getting
and i'm shifting and sweating

i hate sick days
and i hate seeing
through all of my friends

oh what are my insentives
to speak
to my relatives

and i'm sorry
that i can't keep from having thoughts like those

but i'm still missing
just what i came here to see


theres a man pointing his revolver at me
and he's laughing and whistling but thinking,
"I Don't think i really deserve this life
i'm going home tonight to speak to my knife
and there isn't anything that seperates god from soil
when you're going in
you've been dead once and you'll die again"

you're missing a few teeth and you're taller than I
and you know it's easy to make me cry
and i'm breathing in violently
and you're kicking leaves in my direction
you've got a valid reason for every vain that you break
for every shot that you take
for every smile you fake
and there's a pistol in the dumpster, just lying around
just waiting to be found
to make its loud,
beautiful sound