All my friends childhood memories are of TV shows, and so are mine / but all our minds are far from falling rotten / in fact they're blooming all the time / my garden grows / fifteen budding notebooks / filled with stolen words without the time / they look the same / but each one speaks a different voice / that helped my craft my pickup line / 

we are not one / we're just stuck in the same hole / we aren't even two / we're monologues and that's comforting to me / i don't know about you / 

i sing 'till my throat is raw and red / while everyone else makes demands of the dead / 'cause I know and my friends do too / that hard work gets you something and fate is an excuse / 

all my friends money goes to rent and alcohol and cigarettes and so does mine / but even with burning lungs and drowning liver we're more than getting by, singing / 

we are not one / we're just stuck in the same hole / with no way out / no, we aren't even two / we're monologues and that's comforting to me / i don't know, i don't care about you / 

i awoke in a sweat from the american dream and you were lying next to me, singing / we are blooming all the time / we are /

Blooming all the Time

I wish you'd stop talking about that bluebird in your heart/ I can clearly see him perched on your arm / whistling a sweet, soft tune / but i don't weep and you do / 

You're not supposed to show the bartender / You've got to hide him from the grocery clerk / Only take him out at night / Once you've drawn the blinds / and the whores and the paperboys are fast at work/ 

You can drink your whiskey / Chain smoke your cigarettes, but / those won't make you clever, no / Why can't you get that through your head/ 

I wish you'd stop talking about that bluebird in your heart / His cage door didn't shut from the start / Can't fool the boys or the full moon / but you don't know and I do / 

Last call says the bartender / and still your phone sleeps like it's out of work / Your sleeve is bleeding all the time / Thin woes in cheap disguise / turning helpful smiles into smirks / 

You can drink your whiskey / Chain smoke your cigarettes and / those might make you clever, but / you won't remember what was said / sympathetic times will come and go / So tonight, throw a sheet over the cage and end the show /

Bluebird

Stark raving mad in a digital box. 
While the weather outside's getting colder. 
Wish I could pull my fingers from this wall socket 
and head to work but, the rush is making me bolder. 
It's a half baked continuity, 
if these imitation lives don't get through to me 
then why am I running wires into the forest? 
went to bed feeling fine on Sunday, woke up on Monday 
spitting binary. It was all over the pillow and dried out on my lips.

I could never fall asleep in socks 
now I pass out in denim even sober 
my missed calls are adding up 
but outside the grid its the same thing, over and over 
someone needs a blood donation? 
you need help moving from the first to the second floor? 
i've got your baudelaire and you'd appreciate it back? 
over my rusting electrified corpse. 

People say it's wrong, 
but it feels so right. 
To sit at home alone at night. 

It finally happened, 
the transition has been made. 
After taping my eyes open and staring at the screen 
for a number of days I'm becoming who I always knew I could be. 
My hair has fallen out, my eyes are now prepped for thermal seeking. 
I'm organ-less, bastard, robot machinery. 
And I'm coming for you and there's nothing you can do. 

I used to want to get along 
with the intrusive daylight 
but I've found solace in the anonymous text fight. 
People say its wrong, 
but it feels so right. 
To sit at home alone at night. 

People say it's wrong. 
People say it's unhealthy. 
But it feels so right. 
To sit at home alone at night.

wdyd

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