bakers dozens of country miles
couldn't keep the drug out.
vinyl records and chalkboard elephants
gone with the wind.
with the run of a hand.

we never let the bread rise.
always kneading away,
putting out fires before they start
and missing the drought
in front of you.

the wind rattles my straw house,
so i feed the Wolf
to get some quiet.

eating the ****** weapon and
wearing the fur.
i have nothing to say so i ramble,
and think about what i should buy you for christmas
and how ill give it to you without
tripping the wires
you keep around me

There's a parallel universe where I have abs
And cool hair.
Where I ride the bluest wave Back to shore.
Where I tell people to *******
Because I hit every ball
They ever threw at me.

Instead I give myself a mulligan.
And surf the green waves of the flatline.
And hum the same B flat
Until it sounds like
B

no mountain too high they said
i rip the wood from the trees,
to build the road to Juneau
and bathe in the endorphin river

dry my ankles
and let them breathe the cold air
so the people know
im just a nobody

break my hands
to feel my legs again

break me down
so i can love again

The sun casts two shadows of me down on the pavement
And I could do without either.
Oh what to do when your own novelty wears off,
But leave the clown for the birds.
Some swords have two edges but what does that matter if they're already in your stomach.
I don't believe in God yet,
But I do believe in karma.
So **** the part of me that loves the world
And I promise there'll be hell to pay.