going around with my tails busted
they just drag the ground all paralyzed
sometimes a fan comes up on the street
but they see an old me who shivers when people walk behind him
i think i was supposed to work with tools
and maybe make something of the world
that didn't ask for favors
call it the present hah
sometimes i still have a few drinks at home
walk the hard floors without shoes on
listening to music
if i scrunch my head hard
enough the flying will come back
see though
i can at least sleep on them later
like a dumb cushion that doesn't hurt
like there are any dreams, just the void
and then you wake up from it
wondering how you keep doing yourself wrong
we're all the same now
making money off likenesses
we traded for the end
and i am closer to the epilogue than i ever thought
maybe just floating towards my old workshop
to build it