"Rabbit Troop Sucks"

Fuck off, I'm not going to the hospital.
I'll heal at the bar.
And I won't get lost again, it's just around the corner.
I've been trying to swat the same fly for years.
I've trapped it before, but it always breaks free.
Then I hear the same sigh, the quiet kind with no relief.

The dreams are cloudy and soft then vivid and harsh.
I wake up frightened and raw and I start 
punching holes through the walls.

And I know it's time
they let me go and run far from here.
And I know it'll take me time
to let go and disappear.

I was barred from doing what I loved
after I stopped passing the tests.
The adulation had been long gone,
and the money wasn't coming back.
Now I'm still beat up 
but with no room to move,
under watchful eyes.
It was the gradual things that took me most by surprise.

There are spies outside and strangers moving in.
They clean up the spills, but they get impatient.
Who's going to find my balance?

And I know it's time
they let me go and run far from here.
And I know it'll take me time
to let go and disappear.

I had it all once and now my world's so small.
Post-it notes everywhere and pills in both palms.
Nothing matters now and nothing makes sense.
But maybe there are things I need to forget.

And I know it'll take me time
to let go and disappear.
No one sees what I see.
No one hears what I hear.
And no, I won't calm down.

I'm an invisible man,
slumped in my corner again,
waiting on the lights to dim.

Rabbit Troop Sucks

"My Net Worth"

Promising your best behavior.
A napkin on your lap, sensible bites.
Maintaining posture...
Then you malfunction like a robot,
all sparks and fits and fright.

I’ve been there before,
but I can’t give it a name. 
It circles my orbit first
and then it invades my space.

Trying to break the hex,
but all its weight’s resting
on my chest and throat.

Please don’t worry, though. 
I just lost connection again. 
A lot of nothing,
when I close my eyes.
Though my focus is shot,
I got to untie these knots from time to time.
And what else is there to say other than “it’s late”?
My intentions are good.
My execution’s far from great. 

By yourself at recess, 
kicking around a deflated ball.
Glassy-eyed...
Then looking down at your desk
praying your name never gets called.
White as chalk. 
You’re shrinking.

I’ve been there before,
but I can’t give it a name. 
It circles my orbit first
and then it invades my space.

Wincing at the past.
It never stops humming 
in the background.

Please don’t worry, though. 
I just lost connection again. 
A lot of nothing,
when I close my eyes.
Though my focus is shot,
I got to untie these knots from time to time.
And what else is there to say other than “it’s late”?
My intentions are good.
My execution’s far from great. 

Come pick me up and don’t bring me back.
Every homecoming is gray.
I can self-destruct, but I worry about everyone
who’ll get hit by the wave.
So then make it all add up 
using the correct numbers.
One plus one equals whatever we want.
Yeah, whatever we want.

My Net Worth

"Conservative Comedy"

Past all the campaign signs,
well-groomed yards, and porch lights.
I hurry up your steps
like I’m being pursued by death.
Then you shut the door in its face.

But I don’t know if you can break up
that noisy debate club brawling in my head.
‘Cause I can’t get off the ground 
with these wings of brick and stone.

But “ready, set, go…”
Another thought I can’t just ignore.
And I’m just a blob taking up your couch,
my guts flooding your living room floor.

I know I ask you for so much. 
I know I ask you for so much.
Yeah, so much more than I could possibly receive.

All those souvenirs I kept now look more and more like junk. 

But I’m running on no sleep.
Your A.C. rumbles, and I’m uneasy.
A playoff game is on your TV. 
Big stakes...
Every squeak’s got me flinching.
You can’t help but look my way.

I hate being the worry that keeps you up,
but here I am again.
So much for a tender night…
Like leaving for a party then coming back to a funeral.

But “ready, set, go…”
Another thought I can’t just ignore.
I’m just a blob taking up your couch, 
my guts flooding your living room floor.
And I go “blah, blah…”
But you still check in every afternoon.
I just want to trample the stampedes
that come for me and the ones that come for you.

I know I ask you for so much. 
I know I ask you for so much.
Yeah, so much more than I could possibly receive.
I know I ask you for so much. 
I know I ask you for so much.
Yeah, so much more than you could possibly give.

How do you keep your head on straight?
And keep yourself from drifting?
How do you keep your head on straight?
And keep yourself from drifting?
I want to keep my head on straight at all times.
I want to make sure this is not a goodbye.

Conservative Comedy

“Giant Chaos Bomb”

I somehow survived another forty-some hours.
I fixed up the place before I had visitors,
but I still felt like knocking a few things over.
So we frequented the same padded rooms and bomb shelters.

I don’t want to be joyless and jittery,
polluting myself before bitterly
shooting balloons out of the sky.

Something still shines in the dark
but something still howls throughout the day.
And I don’t know how to leave myself alone, that’s true.
But I’ve trained to fall these great distances.

Now, I’ve heard of contentment,
but I’ll believe in it when I feel it.
And if I feel it, I won’t stand in its way.

I nursed what was put in front of me, but I felt wobbly.
I pondered my potential assets and my future earnings.
Our evening accelerated, and nothing really dulled the edge,
not even all those habits I refuse to be buried with.

I don’t want to be distant and sad,
throwing wild pitches with a vice in hand,
spinning myself sick with the ceiling fan.

Something still shines in the dark,
but something still howls throughout the day.
And I don’t know how to leave myself alone, that’s true.
But I’ve trained to fall these great distances.

Oh, it’s just the typical malaise
that I’ve learned to tolerate and acknowledge every day.
I’ve even thanked it for its service,
and for all the songs it encouraged,
but now I would like to see it get on its way.

I drove back, scared the engine would catch fire.
Eventually, the morning light assaulted my eyes,
and I protected myself with the covers like a bemused vampire.
I somehow survived.

Giant Chaos Bomb

"Swear Jar"

Those songs of affirmation don’t pump you up anymore.
They can’t revive your once perfect, mythical form.
You feel so hollowed out.
But it’s not you, it’s them.
But that’s what you have to say
to avoid sleeping off that bitterness
and taking first aid to your deeply busted faith.

Where’s your sash and crown?
Didn’t you earn an endzone dance? 
A place to lounge?
The reality of it all has been swift and sharp.
The teachers you learned nothing from 
are now the bosses that march you around with ease.
Like being crushed by every ocean and sea…
You’re deep, deep down. 

You tried to make it less about you.
You tried to swallow all your words,
but it was like swallowing gravel;
it was too hard and so unfair.
And everyone’s all business now, they’re on their own trip.
You’re alone watching some TV judge, and you’re stewing.
There’s no justice in this world.

With all your boasts and taunts, you earned those rounds of high-fives.
You’d either win big or put up one hell of a fight.
Every second you were alive.
And everything you did you would top the next day.
But now your lights are burned out, and the seasons have changed.
The smallest victories elude you now.

But you were like a tornado. 
Now you’re rootless.
But you were the tornado
they weren’t supposed to forget.

But you were like a tornado. 
Now you’re rootless.
But you were the tornado
they weren’t supposed to forget.

But you were like a tornado. 
Now you’re rootless.
But you were the tornado
they weren’t supposed to forget.
And it’s so strange 
because they did, and they couldn’t wait to.

They weren’t supposed to forget.

Swear Jar

"Union Cane"

Hey friends, speak plainly.
We know what’s lurking, and we’re frightened by the sound of it.
We dug around a bit, just fool’s gold.
So who’s going to save us?
But who’d want to sign up for that?
One icy room, two sandy tombs. 
We’re bee-stung,
our phantom limbs swell and swell.
My, my, my…

Everything appears to be in order here,
just smooth out the creases.
If this is not the absolute end then they’re warning it’s near.
We’ll wait it out...
Walking through a desert on stilts. 
A brutal thirst, a lack of thrills.
Yeah, everything appears to be in order.

We were spat out from somewhere,
now we’re suspended in the atmosphere.

We stay up until we’re delirious.
We take off some clothes
then wake up feeling sort of alone.
We stare straight into that void.
We’re always frightened, so frightened by how quiet it is.
We survived desire.
Now there’s not much left,
it’s mostly past tense.
My, my, my…

Everything appears to be in order here,
just smooth out the creases.
If this is not the absolute end then they’re warning it’s near.
We’ll wait it out...
Walking through a desert on stilts. 
A brutal thirst, infinite hills.
Yeah, everything appears to be in order.

We were spat out from somewhere,
now we’re suspended in the atmosphere.
My, my, my…

Hey baby. Hey honey. Hey sweetheart.
We’ll booby-trap our entire lives
to keep those friends from coming back.
They’re wrapped like mummies now,
but they used wear to ski masks,
and they never brought a gift or a dessert.
Oh, they were a festive bunch...
Look, we will be the only pharmacy.
We’ll treat anxiety and allergies
and clean the deepest cuts.
“Gentle, gentle...”

I stepped in dog shit for the fifth time in three months.
You can’t find the humor in anything anymore.
I know we’re hobbled
but please, let’s just start the car.

mixx

Union Cane Blues

"Almost Literally"

You had a coronary on the bleachers.
I saw your beat-red fists. 
I turned into a pumpkin.
You blew off steam, but not all of it.
You always expected to be afforded some grace.
A wide berth I give you now.
You say you had your reasons.
I said I wouldn’t let you pass them down.

Your red ink is all over my work,
and I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed to no avail.
Your presence is like a splinter under each nail.

I kept it close to the vest
that I had no desire to match or beat your personal best.
As if you’d ever be impressed…

Men of great determination and will
who don’t know the word “retreat.”
They’re preserved in the posters you hammered on my walls 
when I was trying to sleep.
You wanted to paint me something grand,
but you couldn’t work the brush.
The landscape is bombed out,
but at night, the stars still wink at us.

What’s it about getting older 
and feeling the need to backtrack? 
And to apologize for every unkind thing 
you ever said but totally meant?

I kept it close to the vest
that I had no desire to match or beat your personal best.
You still warrant a measured response one day.
But I aided and abetted this by just nodding along.
I felt like I couldn’t stop.

Look at all the colors in the sky...
I’m nearly immobilized.
You’re desperate to come around.
But I have the freedom now to be as stubborn as you.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

I had to keep it close.
I had to keep it so close.
I still owe you a response one day.
But it’s partially my fault
because I nodded along.
I just sat there.
I tried to look you in the eye.
I couldn’t spit out the truth.
There was nothing I could do.

Almost Literally

“Doom Prep”

After my last derailment, I really wanted a change.
But then those teenagers attacked me at the arcade.
They’re the least of my worries…

I think of the black room where you fight to stay awake.
Tubes like tentacles, talks of surgery.
I can’t look my creation in the face.

I was ready for goodbye.
I hoped to say goodbye.
Now I’m sick with dread.
I draw all the blinds.
I hide out with weirdos
while you set off explosives in my fevered head.

But I’ll face my doom with you.
You’ve pried open my eyes,
but I don’t know how to move.
It’s just me, myself, I, and you
in a world that’s bleeding out.

She doesn’t know I hide what the doctor tells me,
doesn’t feel the staff’s disapproving eyes,
or see your suffering, which might just destroy us all.

To beat the devil, there’s only one path to take.
Gasoline to greasy rags, I’m one match away.
But can you hear me plotting?

Each step was planned just so.
Now I’d kill to feel so-so.
I was going places.
I’m not anymore.
So I drink on the job
until my dread comes up crimson
and splatters everywhere.

But I’ll face my doom with you.
You’ve pried open my eyes,
but I don’t know how to move.
It’s just me, myself, I, and you.

I’ll face my doom with you.
You’ve pried open my eyes,
but I don’t know how to move.
It’s just me, myself, I, and you.

When you’re brought home
and the accommodations are in place,
where will I hide myself? Will I still feel the shame?
I’m sorry, I’ve been in this trance for so long
I’m starting to believe I was always in it.
All chewed up in its gory jaws...
I’m bleeding out.

Doom Prep



“Castleton Snobs”

I run the stop sign near Jaycee Park,
shaking at the thought
of all the things you’re capable of
and all the things I’m not.

And what I say to you, you do not hear.
You just nod at the right times
and insist that the love’s still real,
though it feels all camouflaged and cross-eyed.

When we laugh it’s ‘cause we’re nervous,
not because anything funny was said.
A crack of the knuckles…
A tug at loose thread…

Still, we smile like freaks
and try to be polite.
Our act is running on fumes.
When I catch your eyes, I do not see them shine.
We can’t agree on what’s true.

I trust your fun-house mirrors
then spot the snipers disguised in white.
Gung-ho to gun-shy in the blink of a bloodshot eye.

It came to an end, all that fun I had,
when I lost my drive on your jagged and cratered paths.
It used to be so effortless,
but it no longer is.

You patch it up.
You Frankenstein it enough.
Then you let it back out
just to let it back in, torched to pieces.
I channel-surf for months.
I mess with the volume and the knobs.
I never settle on what I want.
We used to feel so well-put-together.

I liked my chances
against your glass cannons,
but I misfired and fell apart like wet paper.
Now I overwork my heart and brain.
What kept us above ground no longer keeps me safe.

You want to feel it all at once.
Now I’m just lurking on your life’s edges.
We watch the same sun go down
as another day loses its color and definition.

It came to an end, all that fun I had,
when I lost my drive on your jagged and cratered paths.
It used to be so effortless,
but it no longer is.

We’re rockets launched in heavy rain.


Castleton Snobs

“Exit Interview”

I start Monday, but I don’t think I’ll go.
Can you believe I’ve been up thinking about all those asshole clubs
we should’ve no-showed?
By 1 or 2am, we always felt like puddles on the ground.
By the end, we had seen every last inch of that town.

But I couldn’t relax much.
I was so unsure of what I had,
and if it could ever be enough.
“Snap out of it.”

I told ‘em I’d be over, but I’ll make up some excuse.
I need to reconstruct the timeline of events,
then deconstruct it for good use.
I remember delaying the “goodbye.”
But I eventually said it.
Then I was outside somehow
with all the turbulence that word had ignited.

I could never forget much. 
Some of it still shuts me out 
and keeps me up
“Snap out of it...”

See, when I’m left to my own shoddy devices
everything becomes a crisis.
Yeah, you never knew that.

I’m not sure if I ever grew up.
I don’t have a handle on a lot of things.
I know I wanted your shelter.
But I wanted to go as I pleased.
These days, I tread more carefully, I travel light,
with the knowledge that everything runs its course.
Yeah, in due time.

Tonight, I won’t budge, it’s so dusty and hot. 
The air quality’s poor in here, too,  it’s setting my fire alarms off.
See, if I start when I agreed to, I won’t be much use.
And if I go over, they’ll just talk about me like I’m not in the room.

But if I close my eyes right now, I can see it all.
I can even feel that whirlwind I got caught up in - I can feel it all.
And sometimes, I swear, it’s almost like being there.
If I surrender all of myself...
I’m running down your street, I’m waiting outside your door.
“Hey, I’m here. I’m yours.”

I was supposed to start Monday.

Exit Interview

“Don't Look Lost”

From the train to the subway
to the unkempt streets
and to all cramped spaces in between.
In my heaviest coat, dodging the crowds,
just for a few overpriced drinks.
I catch the El.
Everyone's going somewhere.
I'm along for the ride, but it's like I'm not even there.
"Just don't look lost..."

My head's pounding.
The nineties cover band played so loud.
They played songs from '03, but that's besides the point.
What did I see in the museum that I can't shake?
All that progress and death?
I looked up at all the creatures from long ago,
standing on the land they used to roam.
It was theirs, but it's not anymore.
My generation's technological advancements
will be artifacts one day,
behind glass on the fourth floor.

And all the rooms we raced to
and took cover in didn't shelter us.
No, not from the cold.
Looking at the lonely people looking out for other lonely people
to bond over karaoke songs,
to smirk at the comics reading punchlines off their phones.
Are some homesick?  Some depressed?
Thinking about their lives waiting for them when they get back?

I can't think about that now.
I have one more day. 
I can't think about that now.
So much more to take in...

Maybe I'll stay. Feet sore and stomach full.
I'd be broke in less than a week,
but I'd live more than I ever do.
Man, I'm thinking too much.
Got to get back to my friend's pad 
and pass out on his yoga mat.

Pressure...

Don't Look Lost

“Poochie”

You wear earplugs and blind folds;
I carry this baggage around.
You can't see me struggle to lift it over my head
and climb these hills.

We'll bounce off the walls.
Your ride'll be in the parking lot.
The heat'll be fierce. The fan'll be on.
You'll be open and the windows'll be too,
so it'll be easier for us to shoot the moon.
And you can wear whatever you want.
And I'll be out of breath, wearing this dirt on my suit.

You know, we all get taken apart. 
We all need minor repairs.
We all get worn down. 
Out and down...
And later, much later,
we're trapped by the ground.
So come on now. What are we wasting for?

When your eyes leave mine
I check out and dig a deeper hole.
Then I throw petals off the roof
until my fever breaks.

I just want muggy late nights. Trumpets and brass.
If we were on the same boat...well, we'd be sinking fast.
And I have no reservations, none at all.
Even as you get bored giving me every chance to say something,
I'll stay patient, waiting for you to be the cure to all my problems.
So cure them one by one.

You know, we all get taken apart.
We all need minor repairs.
We all get worn down. 
Out and down...
And later, much later, we're trapped by the ground.
And in between? Just twists and turns
and beautiful characters, some never to return.
Yeah, wonderful characters, some never to return.

Poochie

“Doubling the Points”

I knew what I was doing.
She was laughing non-stop.
She said she needed a ride
Her car was stuck in the shop.
Okay, she had some wear.
I kept helping her back on her stool.
But her eyes never left mine;
they were cutting through that smoky room.

I played with my ring of dust. 
Her hands caressed my leg.
Then something flickered in and out. 
I felt a release on a burning bed.
And I didn't think about home until I checked out at the front desk.
Then I parked in the driveway, tip-toed the endless steps.
She was sleeping, but I could feel her thinking,
“Here he is, late again.”
And I heard her whisper to someone once, “I try to keep an eye on him.”

But when she's on the sofa,
the kid's coloring a book.
That's when I need a breather.
That's when I need a second look.
And in these rooms...
Man, it's never tense.
It's like I'm only alive in the most fleeting of moments.

The moments when the drink and the voices go straight to my head.
When the sharp lights flicker in and out, another release on some distant bed.
When I don't think about anything after I check out at the front desk.
When I pull up to the driveway, barge in, trip up the steps.
Fall asleep peacefully while she's thinking,
“How much longer can I put up with this?”
When I came home all restless and mean,
and she walks past me without saying a thing.

So where will I be?
Racing towards the driveway to pound on the door, to run those steps?
To reach the bed where we proved our love?
But the house isn't even lit.
Trying to prove to everyone that I have some sort of conscience?

Now I'm left stranded at the start of another blurry night
again...

Doubling the Points

“Banned from the Mall”

The cover was cheap, the crowd's not in your face.
You have a beer in your hand.
Wake up, man. It's Friday.
But you’re in your head,
and that’s where you're gonna stay.
There's no going back.

And I can't listen to this corny synth-pop band
over your misanthropic rants and timid confessions,
the downplaying of your existence, the picking of your blemishes.
And you have no money for your drinks.

But I don't want any of your drugs.
And I don't care nothing about your lost love.
You know I'd steer you away from the ledge if you can't yourself,
but tonight I got problems of my own.
I don't care.

'Cause it's never a sprint; it's always a marathon.
I'm trying to keep up with you, but you keep going on and on.
I can't come up with solutions for you fast enough.
I have none.

But I don't care how you'd do it differently.
And I don't care about the one that got away.
And the forces at work that have shaped this slump of yours,
and your bully from sixth grade.

You bring me down when you bring those vibes around.
I just want to say enough is enough.
But I'd rather scream at the top of my everything.
But you won't be so vulnerable next time.
You'll be sober and fine.
You'll agree you were a little too much.
But man, I know what's it's like
when life feels aimless and cruel...
Pacing for miles in my bedroom...
Dissecting all my past, present, and future moves...
But not tonight.

And I don't want any of your drugs...

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