In my heart this is true,
There are a million other things I'd rather do
Like pulling teeth with dirty tools
What other shame or face do I have left to lose?

Nosy neighbors, they all want to know
If I'll leave behind a fully furnished room

From the garden, barren hillsides,
Count a hundred tiny residences
shuttered down

They're all tense, dimming their lights
Sleep through the day,
reconnaissance throughout the night
And when that clock, finally strikes
I fall so effortlessly free, another life

If I own it, it will comfort me
Borrowing time so I can finally sleep 

From your closet, stuff your suitcase
There’s a dwindling number of possibilities
to leave your station, desperation
From your basement counting schemes
to make it big out there

From the garden, barren hillsides,
Count a hundred tiny residences
shuttered with the night sky
from the sky-cam
Oh reports are saying that
he didn't have a choice
If not for self-defense
then maybe escalation
was the only way, I had to light it up 
to claim the night sky from disaster!
There’s a million other things 
I’ll never do before I leave!
before I leave

Special Root Canal Operation

Searching for scraps in the harbor, making noise!

Special Root Canal Operation

Seagullmoine