They broke his bones in a bathroom stall
with pipes and left cigarette burns
on his eyelids and I
washed my hands, cleaned the blood
off of my shoes and shrugged.
Some days is all you can do to throw
your body on a cursing poor bastard,
but most days you seem like you know
humanity is going to eat itself alive
so you just close the door and stay
in bed for a few more hours.
They say his lies have gone too far
and they know they don't know
whether he's gunning to give up
or run away and try again somewhere
where freaks on the inside stick
out like circus sideshows.
Home is not where we belong.
Christ got nailed to a cross
and I stared and said, "So what?"
that day and every day since
I've been cursed to give zero fucks.
I tried and it almost killed me too,
if you know whats good for you
keep to your own.
This world isn't made of flesh,
it's made of dirt and fire,
you'd do good
to keep that in mind.