| A flicker of a light in an empty home |
| Bickering at night and you end up cold |
| I wanna let the right brain retain control |
| The rhyme inspires most when it’s 5 minutes old |
| There’s a feeling that I get when it’s sad and it’s grey |
| Reminds me of times way back in the day |
| They wouldn’t call me back |
| They didn’t wanna play |
| I ask my stepmother if it ever goes away |
| So I’m sending you a message with text |
| That doesn’t really say it’s an SOS |
| Yes so I guess that I press those numbers |
| To summon for a presto |
| Looking for words (forwards) I spring into summer |
| And wonder if you would (wood) lay around like lumber |
| And supports me like a funder |
| Paying attention to my pain and tension |
| We all have forces pulling us under |
| But somewhere beneath this world torn asunder |
| We smell the storm before the thunder |
| And bring angles down to earth like sunder |
| And when it bursts, the loneliness feels like hunger |
| Why don’t you tell 'em about the loneliness? |
| I’m chewin' on its vapors |
| Hiding from the light |
| With this basement as my base |
| The opposite of a smiling face |
| To chase down whatever this taste is |
| I' a tweeter with a blown cone |
| Wonder where the bass is |
| Drawn to you on a path of penciled promises |
| Found my feet inside erasers |
| Praises to Rafael and St. Rita |
| Try to breathe and gasp |
| Try to seize and grasp |
| Don’t even ask if you can counsel me |
| I’m a lone wold so I wear wolf wear wool |
| Cut connections with irreverence |
| I slither in and sever us |
| I wanna be the boy who lived |
| But never have no trust to give |
| I must admit through busted lips |
| I’ve sunken ships and rusted bridges |
| Cut slow to the quick |
| And lost myself to split decisions |
| Multiply by my divisions |
| Round down for the placement |
| Alone in that basement |
| Why don’t you tell 'em about the loneliness? |