The city has *** with itself, I suppose
As the concrete collides, well, the scenery grows
and the lonely, once bandaged, lay fully exposed
They undressed their wounds for each other
And there's a boy in a basement with a four track machine
He's been strumming and screaming all night down there
The tape hiss will cover the words that he sings
They say it's better to bury your sadness
in a graveyard or a garden that waits for the spring
to awake from its sleep and burst into green
Well I've cried and you would think I'd be better for it
but the sadness just sleeps and it stays in my spine
for the rest of my life
And I've learned and you'd think I'd be something more now
but it just goes to show it is not what you know,
it's what you were thinking at the time
This feeling's familiar, I've been here before
In a kitchen this quiet I waited for
a sign or just something that might reassure me of anything close
to meaning or motion with a reason to move
I need something I want to be close to
And I scream but I still don't know why I do it
'Cause the sound never stays, it just swells and decays
So what is the point?
Why try to fight what is now so certain?
The truth is that all that I am is a passing event that will be forgotten