There's a voice on the phone
Telling what had happened,
Some kind of confusion
More like a disaster.
And it wondered how you were left unaffected,
But you had no knowledge.
No, the chemicals covered you.
So a jury was formed
As more liquor was poured.
No need for conviction,
They're not thirsting for justice.
But I slept with the lies I keep inside my head.
I found out I was guilty.
But I won't be around for the sentencing,
I found out I was guilty.
Cause I'm leaving
On the next airplane.
And though I know that my actions are impossible to justify
They seem adequate to fill up my time.
But if I could talk to myself
Like I was someone else,
Well then maybe I could take your advice,
There's a film on the wall,
And I wouldn't act like such an asshole all the time.
Who are sitting beside it,
They must return to their lives once the hero has died.
Makes the people look small
All consumed in the drama.
Stopping somewhere for coffee,
They will drive to the office
Where the folk singers, poets and playwrites convene,
Dispensing their wisdom.
Oh dear amateur orator.
They will detail their pain
In some standard refrain.
Well, if it is, I think I am winning it,
They will recite their sadness
As I make my final lap.
Like it's some kind of contest.
The gold medal gleams
All beaming with confidence
So hang it around my neck
The champion of idiots.
Cause I am deserving it:
But a kid carries his walkman on that long busride
To Omaha.
I know a girl who cries when she practices violin.
Cause each note sounds so pure, it just cuts into her,
And then the melody comes pouring out her eyes.
Now to me, everything else, it just sounds like a lie
