I must be easily mistaken
For a coat on a plastic hanger
Because nothing has been more familiar
Than the way I’ve been used,
Selected finickly from the men’s section
And worn until I’m ruined.

They expect me to fulfill their needs
And take on all their elements
And if I get a little *****
I’m just thrown in the wash
So I can be used again.

and just like that
the buildings fall,
hundreds of hours put into
their walls...

so illegal was it
to meet in this place
the one we spend hundreds of hours
and effort can't find a trace

A handle is hard to describe
But in this thought I'll try

I am, with or without you
You do not have final say
My spine is strong and head still firm
Alas, I am just clay
My shoes without lace, and yet
A handle is not needed,
To keep me in place.

My function to do, is done without you
A servant of service I stay
I do not jest but I cannot fray
I just dont need your
Disfigured clay.

With you i am heavy but freeier than before.
You make my job easier, the job that is to pour

I can live without you babe,
Just wish that you had stayed
My life will go on
Your handle will be replaced.

This generation
Is obsessed
Begging for an ovation
This nation
Is in preparation
For the worst
But it’s already started
Things have gone south
Into the uncharted
Hard-hearted
That’s what I am
You are
We are
All the phony stars
The famous people
Standing a top their great steeple
They’re not better than us
None of us are
We try
But this world is so bad
It’s enough to make a grown man cry
Grown men cry
Single moms sigh
Because this world is going south
No one trusts
Each other anymore
We ruined this world
Anger swirls
At this world of ashes
From the fire of hate
I hate
This hate
Contradiction.

The kids are going to do
What they want to do
They may have just ruined their lives
On an impulse decision
Whose to say what works ?
You find somebody you like
And you roll the dice
That's all anybody can do

and you ruined me,
way before those filthy hands
and forced kisses had,
way before cigarettes,
and hangovers,
way before my poems
fetishized
my unhappiness,
before best friend break-ups
and pretty boys
who couldn't
love themselves
and me.

you see, it was you
who ruined me first,
way before
all of them ever did.
it was you
who ruined me first,
way before
everything else did,
way before
life did,
and way before
i
did.

and sometimes, i still wish
you weren't my first heartbreak