I blew up a glue gun in highschool.

One, owned by my chemistry teacher.

Met with high heat, and overclocked ambitions.


So I knew from others

That I was a fool to believe

That I never knew to look in a mirror.

\
I feared I'm the steerer of hate.
Of how I fell.

Of how I'm in charge.
I'm the one to ring the bell.
And make sure that everyone knows.

That everyone knows about everything.

To show that everyone knows about everything
and anything,
and that is always how is goes.

And that just goes to show how quaint, quiet, and simple
everything can and should be.

I use that idea,
I use it everymorning
to wipe the gunk out of my eyes
so I can finally see.