Wednesday, March 12, 2008


the more things change, the more they stay the lame
treading water is the game, in this puddle made of rain
it all feels like a joke, i'm just waiting for the punchline
God gets the bit, i see his laughter in the sunshine
who's gonna ignore me after you're gone
and where will i sit shotgun, listening as you quietly sing along
you get the bit, i can see it in your tears
and you look beautiful when you cry away the weight of several years
stare of the almond eyes, another year stolen from the soul
and when i'm around and you're around we still don't make a whole
i made a hole, i dug the dirt and grabbed a handful of the pitch
i keep the dirt stain on my left hand, just waiting for the switch
but there's a hitch, you see, the switch is never here nor there
and when the clock strikes i'll see neither hide nor hair
yet again time to reset the clock and figure out the work
just me and a pile of worms digging in the dirt