Well I was walking down the street with an artificial heart
but I didn’t have use so I sold it for spare parts
… and that’s all it was.
Knew your name from a billboard poster
always wanted to get a little closer
but knew that it just wouldn’t be.
In memories I wait
Make sense of things only to complicate
Nothing here feels like home
So be it, I’m content to roam: forever.
Well there’s a pretty girl at my side, I don’t know why!
Everybody knows that I’m the ugliest guy that you’ve seen:
like a beauty queen.
And all of these fake limbs surround me
and the mannequins in the storefront are always grinnin’
like they’re happy.
Well I don’t have much use for such things, everything is in my brain. I have got my medicine, now look at the state I am in. Don’t want to justify my life with a felt-tip pen, so mark me in as a pencil drawing: memory traces, never erases.
In memories I wait
Make sense of things just to hallucinate
Friends flake and melt away.
In memories I’m content to stay: whatever.
I didn’t know what I was doing with my life
All I had was a set of knives
that I kept in my living room to display
Everyone says that “It’s okay, okay?”
And it’s alright to own a shotgun
only if you hope you’ll never have to use one
so I lean it on the side of the room
with the baseball bat next to the mushrooms.
Whatever. We’re all doing drugs nowadays.
And it seems like life is a permanent haze
of pot smoke and responsibilities.
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