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I Mother Earth Scenery And Fish Three Days Old The poetry of this hangover I don't want to think, not Too hard anyway The scenery and fish, they're bad Take another breath, another look and swallow Holding the hand of hard times And fallout It could be worse...my star could fall Pacified by little things Tones of beige and green seem To halt a scream in waiting All red eyes, all heads thinking No one says anything I can Hear down here on the floor Where I belong Too young to find the horses Too young fighting causes I get overwhelmed And I feel three days old Another day goes and fails The people lose control just 'cause Things are going slow Your corduroy coat has left you Just when you're feeling the wind And cold Then comes a rain of old thoughts That always have to wreck my high And bring me down You and I are not the same You like everything Arms wave in a spin, blown by Things I've hated, I've faded to the point Where I'm not all there Curled up on the floor Where I belong |
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