who knew you could turn left on this road? who knew there was water back here all along? i've been here seventeen years i'm hoping you could prove me wrong

stumbling upon such a clever scene you and your sister's secret language, between you and me, was a fresher breath of air than i felt on the bridge out there

but beauty and poetry look suspect when churned out like so many sausages

you had your eye on the prize the artistic life, scribbling lines you had to know that it was scrawl mastered cigarettes and alcohol but you still couldn't draw

giving birth to little mice and rabbits when what you wanted was a child could you upbraid a boy for dreaming when he is so passionate?

oh, why not be a procrastinating perfectionist and never let anyone peek when you don't do anything you can't mess anything up

do i owe this to myself or do i owe it to my mom would you upbraid a girl for sleeping? that's when i do my best dreaming do the ones who end up famous make time for staring at the wall? would you upbraid a girl for sleeping?it's usually not my fault