in a while you will know more you will be ahead of me leapfrogging little boy landed as an old man and all the numbers and the words are like new shoes and sunday clothes to punish empty hours (if you have those) and if i back up really far will it make sense? and if i make us an antfarm will it mean less?

i hate the wait for a letdown that puff of air heading for your eye two chunks of limestone made of tears obey gravity i think that i'm out of line a borrower of grief, an empath to a fault it's embarrassing to cry when nothing's wrong but when i back up really far it makes sense and when i make us an antfarm it's tragic

so don't sugar it up, you just make it worse singing, "praise be the punk with the firecrackers" in a while you will know more than i