My pipe-dreams were never right
                  should
                                  ­                                                have
            ­                      been
                                      ­                           a
plumber

So close
I love you
I'm so drunk,
But it brings what I want to say
You are my baby
I want to hold you forever
Sunday
I just have to wait till Sunday
God I love you

I’m envious of the bee’s
Ability to be.
Their ability to see
So much better then me.
They are born and they live.
They live and they die.
The whole while with only one goal in mind.

I’m caught in something
And when I wake up I forget
I forget what it is
This trap that torments me so
Its as if I figured out
The man who stole happiness
And all the things
that brought joy to my life
Only to forget in the morning,
Only to find out again
In a week or two
I just now remembered
And I know tomorrow morning
It will be gone
Please don't let this painful insight
Evaporate in the morning rays
For I can’t understand
what trap this is
when I forget
everything I understood

I go back in time and hug my little boy self
and pull him away from that all seeing balcony
He was far to young to see that far
Hold him close, please?
Tell him what he needs to hear.
Ask him about lost memories that made me
Take him to the skate park
Buy him some ice cream
Tell him it will be ok

Please handle with care we say
Please handle with care, Mr. Postman
I know you see that sticker all
day every day
But please handle with care
You don't understand our package is
important
We don't care about the rest
I know your numb Mr. Postman
But please
Handle with care

Tangy lips stained with wine
Taste so good behind the lies
Sublime is the rhyme I feel inside
When I look at those happy guilty eyes

I was driving down a curvy road
And I saw a cross of some fools soul
I didn't know
I saw some road **** as I went by
Well at least they pulled it off to the side

Set fire to your ants with magnifying glasses
Self-immolation a monk turned to ashes
See what you want, it will always seem better
I guess I like the ocean sea better  

My thoughts coagulate and my contemplation thickens
There’s no more catalyst to loosen the tension
But what can I do, for is this not my soul?
What is this existence I am forced to behold?

Well I guess that’s life
At least that’s what I’m told it is
I guess I’ll go to sleep again
And hope things get better within