Another brick-red room, another black-top town
Another misspelled band burning their own houses down
Another pine-box tune to fill the cemetery day
Another star, a touch of orange over purgatory gray
Another thorny field to scatter fruitless seed
Another song that runs too long, God knows no one needs
More misguided ghosts, more transparent hands
To drop a nickel in our basket and we’ll do our riot dance
Beneath another burning sky, behind our painted lips
In scores of catatonic smile-covered ankle-bitten ships
Throw your pedestal of stone in the forgetful sea
As protection from the paper-thin perfection you project on me
When this repetition ends behind the window shades
A semi-conscious sorrow sleeping in the bed I’ve made
That most unrestful bed, that most original of sins
And you’ll say that’s what I get when I let ambition win again
I’d hate to let you down, so I’ll let the waters rise
And drown my dull reflection in the naive expectation in your eyes
Back in a cast bit-part, back when I felt most free
I had a butcher’s heart and no one thought they knew me
So before the regiment resumes, before the dreaded sun appears
My driver’s waiting, so let’s make one point crystal clear:
You see a flood-lit form, I see a shirt design
I’m no savior of yours and you’re no friend of mine…