In The Red

There’s so much that i don’t understand
So i lay awake and analyze the night
I have popped every pock, picked at every scab
The levels aren’t hot enough
It sounds so cramped and tight
Faster than a bullet from the chamber
From hotel beds «I love you» said to strangers
No matter what it meant, no matter what’s implied
I keep wasting all my time finding signals, riding rhymes
Not one voice goes unaffected
Crumbling under all the weight of critics, judges, mentors
Falling off the cart
Some sunlit, show-less, hapless town
In the winter, the van is quiet…
And we’re crowded
The pen is broken
I’m bleeding on the napkin
All of these thoughts are inconsequential so it’s over
It’s all over
Hoped the Greyhound would roll over
Down into the drink and the cops would block the streets for miles
Crumbling under all the weight of critics, judges, mentors
Falling off the cart some sunlit, show-less, hapless town
The spell I’m under blankets ear plugs
Swelled up breath getting quicker so
I dog-ear pages to remember where i left off
I hope we grown up soon
Before my mind goes out of tune
I hope we grow up soon
Before out lights go out
In the winter the van is quiet…