| I saw the door and I looked through the entrance
|
| Stare down night sky, dot pattern seeming endless
|
| Broken friendship, dandy dog on leash
|
| Door latch caught spot, shoe stomp on street
|
| Tape deck plays and the reels will spin
|
| Suburb sound close down as boom-bap begin
|
| My red face hide in the shades of the trees
|
| As buggered blue moonlight pass through the leaves
|
| Carry out my concerning deeds in the deprivation of the darkness
|
| The com-com-comfort of cave-dweller locked inside of an apartment
|
| I spark this with the marked mistakes of minors learning
|
| How to build a better book of matches by watching the fire burning
|
| Count all my dreams on a pair of Pinocchio fingers
|
| And trace the trail back home by the tumbling splinters
|
| A silly beginner, basic apprentice aggression
|
| In the absence of a master, trying to make up my own lesson
|
| Who knew I would wait, I would wait such a long time
|
| Who knew I would wait, I would wait such a long time
|
| From the dreams to the leaves to the cracks in the pavement
|
| To the roaches and rats to the armored cars pacing
|
| From the spies to the thieves to the cross-eyed complainers
|
| To the… ain't that long when you count out the paces
|
| From the breach to the tracks to the aliens with statements
|
| To the grief to the crap that they all want to wade in
|
| To the forth and back, the forth and back
|
| There’s no turning back and back and back and back again
|
| Secrets explode whether you mean it or not
|
| I locked my dreams with the right keys but I worked the wrong locks
|
| The strong box screws split quick before I could retighten
|
| I learned lightning strikes and leaves before language leaks «it lightens»
|
| The waking of the dead to live and work with the freaks
|
| I was a vampire roaming streets when I would swear I’is asleep
|
| The beeping of the buzzer burn my brain the next day
|
| I tried to brush my teeth but never could remove the blood stains
|
| A double life of moonlighting grows tiring from trying
|
| If you got to work a day job and keep the villagers from rioting
|
| The list of lies, lengthened longer, left life laymen honest
|
| Invited the world into my home to show the bones stacked in my closet
|
| A dumb little skeleton walking miles to chase a silly dream
|
| Stubborn skull, split shoes, punctuated by abrasive feet
|
| All the while stalking, walking, awkward through the night
|
| In the stomach of the suburbs with a dog by my side
|
| From the dreams to the leaves to the cracks in the pavement
|
| To the roaches and rats to the armored cars pacing
|
| From the spies to the thieves to the cross-eyed complainers
|
| To the… ain't that long when you count out the paces
|
| From the breach to the tracks to the aliens with statements
|
| To the grief to the crap that they all want to wade in
|
| To the forth and back, the forth and back
|
| There’s no turning back and back and back and back again
|
| From the dreams to the leaves to the cracks in the pavement
|
| To the roaches and rats to the armored cars pacing
|
| From the spies to the thieves to the cross-eyed complainers
|
| To the… ain't that long when you count out the paces
|
| From the breach to the tracks to the aliens with statements
|
| To the grief to the crap that they all want to wade in
|
| To the forth and back, the forth and back
|
| Forth and back and back and back again
|
| From the dreams to the leaves to the cracks in the pavement
|
| To the roaches and rats to the armored cars pacing
|
| From the spies to the thieves to the cross-eyed complainers
|
| To the… ain't that long when you count out the paces
|
| From the breach to the tracks to the aliens with statements
|
| To the grief to the crap that they all want to wade in
|
| To the forth and back, the forth and back
|
| There’s no turning back and back and back and back again |