i'm filled with steak, and cannot dance - sidney gish lyrics
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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