Sitting around, no work today
|
Try pacing to keep awake
|
Laying around, no school today
|
Just drink until the clock has circled all the way
|
It is late afternoon
|
As you walk through the rooms
|
Of a house that is quiet
|
Except for unanswered telephones
|
You stand near the sink
|
While you're mixing a drink
|
You think you don't want to pass out
|
Where your roommates will find you again
|
Stumble around the neighborhood with nothing to do
|
You're always looking for something
|
To sniff, smoke, or swallow
|
Calling over next door to see what they got
|
But you would settle for anything
|
That would make your brain slow down or stop
|
Break this circle of thoughts you chase
|
Before they catch back up with you
|
And your parents noticed your thinning face,
|
All the weight you lost
|
All the weight you are losing
|
You said, "I'm done feeling like a skeleton
|
No more sleep walking dead"
|
You're going to wake from this coma
|
You're going to crawl from this bed you have made
|
And stop counting on that camera
|
That hangs round your neck
|
Because it won't ever remember
|
What you choose to forget
|
As you try to find some source of light
|
Try to name one thing you like
|
You used to have such a longer list
|
And light you never had to look for it
|
But now it's so easy to second guess everything you do
|
Until all you want is to finish this half empty glass
|
Before the ice melts away
|
This feeling used to pass
|
But seems like it's every day and every night now
|
|
-----------------
|
A Line Allows Progress, a Circle Does Not
|
| Bright Eyes |
