mattybobviously
10/30/07, 02:24 PM
Off-kilter buttons and lopsided hats
Knock the sad wearer off far better paths
Mud-stained feet and embarrassing scars
Ditches and dumpsters like comforting arms
Peel off that bedpost and throw it away
Take out the garbage on every Sunday
Soul-less sinners shared stories for free
Completely content with nothing beside me
Uniforms rush in to quell small town fears
Can’t find the footsteps of feet trained by years
Of running away through liquids and glass
Picked out the splinters but kept on the path
Fingers freeze stiff, only clenched in a fist
Left open to long, now with nothing to give.
Placed paper signs on telephone poles
To remind myself of what I once loved the most
Went door to door but wound up at my own
Talked with myself about weather and baseball
Invite myself in, but the shoes don’t come off
Still carrying around pieces of every front lawn
Open door welcome like they wanted me home
But the only one that took me in was my own
Know I’m not the last to flick off the switch at night
But I hope it's noticed when I turn off the light
Street drains clogged with memories
Rolling in puddles is how I breathe
Knock the sad wearer off far better paths
Mud-stained feet and embarrassing scars
Ditches and dumpsters like comforting arms
Peel off that bedpost and throw it away
Take out the garbage on every Sunday
Soul-less sinners shared stories for free
Completely content with nothing beside me
Uniforms rush in to quell small town fears
Can’t find the footsteps of feet trained by years
Of running away through liquids and glass
Picked out the splinters but kept on the path
Fingers freeze stiff, only clenched in a fist
Left open to long, now with nothing to give.
Placed paper signs on telephone poles
To remind myself of what I once loved the most
Went door to door but wound up at my own
Talked with myself about weather and baseball
Invite myself in, but the shoes don’t come off
Still carrying around pieces of every front lawn
Open door welcome like they wanted me home
But the only one that took me in was my own
Know I’m not the last to flick off the switch at night
But I hope it's noticed when I turn off the light
Street drains clogged with memories
Rolling in puddles is how I breathe