My Todays Are Already Yesterdays

i'm not doing so good, but i bet you wanna hear something new
i could lie and tell you the trees looked especially natural today
and it caught my eye as the breeze rustled the leaves, but
that would be a lie, i haven't recognized beauty in quite a while, but
believe me i'm still patiently waiting on it's arrival, til then
survival is a day by day operation, it's no overnight transformation
kick cans and smoke cigarettes, while passing time with other peoples prescriptions
wish me luck, you schmuck, not doing so good, doesn't mean i lose
i'll feel free to abuse the crap outta me, join in, i'm too crazed to care
anyway, there's nothing much here


i gotta stop beating myself over the small stuff
it's all junk, i'm getting so numb from overcoming
every issue that passes through the doors
maybe i can take just a little more baby
-if you're not up for saving me, today's a busy day
i get it, you'll come around, it's time
just by then i'm scared that we might be gone


i have to get out, leave the house, walk the block
i'm manic and maybe that's really what this is all about
but i'm not sure, nothing's clear, i keep it stored, it needs repairs
thank god for music, i dive into it, scream at the top of my lungs
and wonder where all this anger can really come from
i need to pass out before i think myself insane
i got some valid excuses, but i'm mainly to blame
and this heartache follows me almost everywhere
so i gotta go to sleep to put off the despair

"Tell Me" Responded The Believer

we're too proud of our struggles, and useless luggage
and yet we find everything we've been searching for all without trouble
so if it's good to think wisely, how come it doesn't feel fine (it strands you with nothing)
but i've broke through it all, it's just the free fall
you know how we end up? declared demons of our species, the grave robbers, and decadent beauty, all wind up the same, a face in a frame, on a wall in a house
all built with bare hands, the only things that still stand.  all our frequent dreams, they conclude - the curtain dropping is what finally stops us
so heavenly father, please, tell me this - should i look down?
because i lost something trying not to get it stolen
i'm about to show all my cards, i'm folding

I Am A Stump, And You Don't See It

driving back home, and oh god it hurts, but i'm fixated on the moon, and like that it doesn't move.

how i'd die for you to do the same.

and it's a daytime sky at the break of dusk, and i want to look at you, it feels something like a must. but i know if i do, i'll tear up and cry so i take deep breaths and instead think of the wry. i reach out and grab you and turn you to me, it's all in my head but it plays out beautifully. i stutter at the opportune time, as always i can't cross our line.