At least I can advance
Through peacetime in a trance
Bad days too I’ve no restrictions on the mood
Just the degree of effort -
Usage of the brain
Process phantom pain
Eye strain too, the strength of which should be profuse
And add to the collective hurt
So what practical matters must I settle first
What practical matters must be put down, which ones to
Shoot with tranquilizers, leave them falling on the ground
And made into a bearskin rug
But get this, the bearskin is a list
And I’m too distracted to go explaining this
So I'll just canon stamp it
I want to see you at night
Another day, another time
I can’t stand in this lit hallway anymore
I want to be liked
And despite
A past of bad ideas and advice
I sit still and wonder why I ever tried
To think that you were any different
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