wake up and waste a day

chase away


a day at a time

and waste away

clean-faced today

clean taste today

toothpaste makes my orange juice sour

waste an hour

or so

my shower is slow

the flowers that grow

outside of my window

are blooming

I'm assuming

that you're comin' over soon

it's almost half past four

and you called here at noon

'cause there's a picture that you wanna see

now I'm not even good at being me anymore.



She's got nicotine-basted lungs

wasted thumbs

and one of them asphalt tastin' tounges

she wakes up to her alarm

her make-up is still on

and she can't remember why she set the damn thing

her heart is a machine

art is meant to be seen

not felt

not heard

it's just paint

they're just words

and fingers are for feeling

fists are for beating

scabs are for healing

and blood is for bleeding

that's just how I used to be

but I'm not even good at being me anymore



I wake up and waste an hour

pace and glower

at the TV set wasting power

aching in my head

I'm banking in the red

and compulsively charging cd's to my account

so come out Virginia, don't make me wait

you Catholic girls start much too late

now it's too late in the day

for a matinee

and I ain't got the money to pay

for you anyway

what should I say?

I know it ain't how it used to be

but I'm not good at being me anymore.

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