Well I once had a dream but these days I can hardly even sleep,
I once said show me the mountain now the molehill is to steep,
And the days go by with their soul stopping boredom,
And all those people with a clean conscious; I don't know how they afford ‘em.
And I feel like a memory,
And I walk like a clock,
I'm a candle wax destiny,
An electric morning motor shock.
Will I spend my whole life wondering why I wasted my life,
I used to think it was romantic just to survive the strife,
I never; I am; I was and will be,
Till death has the nerve to finally bend down and kill me.
A spider web moonbeam,
A cosmetic Sunday,
A church steeple's daydream,
An Einstein Monday.
How much of not enough can anyone take,
It's all in the pageant of how much reality you can fake,
And the rusty sky and the formula of atom's haunted house,
Dr. Frankenstein couldn't turn a better man into a mouse.
A side effects payoff,
A catastrophe in drag,
A desperate heavens day off,
A soul soaked rag - That is used to wipe the small spot of your life up off the floor when you're finally out of steps - so the people who mean something - the people who are fooled into thinking they are going somewhere and you are just one more thing in their way - won't have to look at your little spot and be reminded that they are making a hell of a fucking mess of things.