Admit it!Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance
And vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs
You know nothing about art or sex
That you couldn't read in any trendy New York underground fashion magazine
Prototypical non-conformist
You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store Gestapo
You adhere to a set of standards and tastes
That appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges (bullshit)
Giving a thumbs up or thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art Go analog baby, you're so post-modern
You're diving face forward into a antiquated path
It's disgusting, it's offensive, don't stick your nose up at me
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah
You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends
Pontificating to each other
Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory
In which you hog the intellectual spotlight
Holding dominion over the entire shallow pointless conversation
Oh, we're not worthy
When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people
You chuckle to yourself patting yourself on the back as you scoff
It's the same superiority complex
Shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell
And makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma
You spend every moment of your waking life bitching about
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah
And I say yeah, what do you have to say for yourself? Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah
'Cause Im proud of my life and the things that I have done
Proud of myself and the loner I've become
You're free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my guitar
Proud of my life and the things that I have done
Proud of myself and the loner I've become
You're free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my guitar, yeah
Well let me tell you this,
I am shamelessly self-involved
I spend hours in front of the mirror, making my hair elegantly disheveled
I worry about how this album will sell
Because I believe it will determine the amount of sex I will have in the future
I self medicate with drugs and alcohol to treat my extreme social anxiety
You are a faker (admit it)
You are a fraud (admit it)
Yeah, you're living a lie (hey) living a lie (hey) you're life is living a lie
You don't impress me (admit it)
You don't intimidate me (admit it)
Why don't you bow down, get on the ground, walk this fucking plank (yeah!)
Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah
And I say yeah (what do you..)
Proud of my life and the things that I have done
Proud of myself and the loner I've become
You're free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my..Guitar, guitar go!
I drift, drift, drift, drift, drift, yeah
I drift, drift, drift, drift, drift, yeah oh
And I am done with this
I wanna taste the breeze of every great city
My car and my guitar
My car and my guitar
So you'll come to be, made of these urges unfulfilled
Oh no, no, no, no, no
When I'm dead I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, lay still
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead I'll rest, I'll rest
Monday, July 21, 2008
The Hurtiest Hurt
Tonight I have experienced a pain like no other. The pain of watching someone you love cry and knowing that you are absolutely powerless to stop the pain. My dear wife is completely broken hearted over a current loss...I'm not sure I am supposed to divulge any of the specific information, but suffice it to say it was a devastating blow.
I sat on the other end of this damned keyboard and watched every word representing tears fall out her finger tips. The only thing I could do was sit here and watch and offer empty "hugs" and "i understand's".
A love life, especially that of one involving a developing marriage, is extremely hard at 10,000 times my arms-length. I hate these moments, but I know with every good, there must be some bad, and with every bad comes some extremely crappy.
I know we will eventually get through this, but until said time comes...life sucks. How do I replace a broken heart at 10,000 miles away?
I sat on the other end of this damned keyboard and watched every word representing tears fall out her finger tips. The only thing I could do was sit here and watch and offer empty "hugs" and "i understand's".
A love life, especially that of one involving a developing marriage, is extremely hard at 10,000 times my arms-length. I hate these moments, but I know with every good, there must be some bad, and with every bad comes some extremely crappy.
I know we will eventually get through this, but until said time comes...life sucks. How do I replace a broken heart at 10,000 miles away?
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