I'd feel so at home in Wyoming; Married to my television Cigarettes for breakfast I'm at peace with my shaking Clipping branches of my tree To feed my precious pets
I never played the game Rolling dice around my teeth But I keep my eyes on the window Let the creeping wind in my belly Be all that makes sense Thrown like a doll in the corner Unblinking for the longest time Measured by the shift and click Twisted legs coiled like cables Sealing Matthew into his box
America's fables never spoken Her reputation and misadventures undeserved Fit like latex on an amateur surgeon My cardboard house unfolded Everything in a tanned leather briefcase I just forgot the combination 827 - 125 and the button slides
Why can't I leave my things in a crate And ship myself off to a Grecian island? I could be sung to sleep Just as in my room But now, my dear Johnny, Oldboy, It's gloaming on Elysium My chest is still beaten upon I file the cold edges round Empty another carton and call it a day