My eyes are smaller than my stomach is.
That is quite a meal for me.
I have lost my appetite lately.
The basement is where we wait
For the storm to break.
Someone is lost outside,
Through the rain we hear them cry.
Deafened by the sound
Of the apples falling down.
They were rotting on the ground
When the winter came around.
My bedroom feels just like
A parking lot that's been
Closed up for the night
Asleep beneath the buzzing light.
