I hear my neighbor's daughter's boyfriend's chevy pull up
I smell her smoke and feel her drink
And wonder if it's the same
for every girl
Well I'm not like you, I hope, but I'm going through the same thing
Puts us both on heartbreak lane
And there's a jr high dance pounding in the background
As we pour another drink
And I wonder if it's the same
for the boys whose lives changed by us
Being their new thing
So I'm sorry if I hurt you,
Down on heartbreak street
Just trying to beat the same as when
We had nothing worth losing

fears are strange

i fear things that are practical
like that those sirens
are rushing towards a love one
that i didn't tell them
how much i loved them
when i saw them last

i also fear things
that i feel unpractical
like snakes
the thought sends chills
in through my body
and makes me want to cry

but my biggest fear
is being forgotten
is falling into oblivion

and as cliche
and boring
as i seem
i know no other fear
then being forgotten

but other days
i want to embrace my fear
and fall into an oblivon
to be forgotten
to never have to worry
to never have to exist

it's a delicate balance
of life
and death, really.

-r.y.s

It'll **** me in the end or
send me round the bend.
Some think I'm already there, around the
bend I mean.
But I have seen them come and go
the wide boys, cowboys, the
flim-flam men and just when I think
I've seen it all
I fall into a reservoir of happiness.

I am a mess
can't think straight,
I want to wait, but I can't find the time,
I want more glad
I want it and bad, but
I just can't wait.

It'll **** me in the end,
the wanting and the wanting now
but happiness is a bonus spin
the reels go random and I grin,
I've seen it all before on the
TV screens, in a hundred dreams,
on the one-armed man who
wants a coin to operate, but I
just can't wait my turn.


I adjourn to the bedroom where
I find some room which is my room
and I watch the blue moon which
is my moon and the new broom of tomorrow
will sweep these thoughts clean.
I know
I've seen it all before, but I wonder why
or how it is
that I always want some more
and I just can't wait.

wash my sins and tumble dry,
a coin is on what most rely,
give two sniffs and call it clean,
have no cares long as it gleams,
pay no attention underneath
stitches come apart at seams,
wicked seamstress knows my secrets,
fixing pieces now she keeps it,
***** hamper tucked away,
filled with words too scared to say,
save them for a rainy day,
burn them all to keep it safe,
unload bags like charity,
smother squeels like parakeets,
flapping, flailing, i repeat,
same mistakes most every week,
wander back to laundry mat,
separate my whites from black,
poison bleach is my combat,
social accepted attack,
convinced its clean but its a lie,
wash my sins then tumble dry.