i wish i didn’t have this nervous laughi wish i didn’t say half the stuff i sayi wish i could just learn to cover my tracksi guess i’m not concerned about getting away ’cause every time i try to hold my tongueit slips like a fish from a linethey say if you want to playyou […]

I’m sorry I didn’t sound more excited on the phoneI’m sorry that after all these yearsI’ve left you feeling unrequited and alone, brought you to tearsI guess I never loved you quite as well as the way you loved meI guess I’ll never really be able to tell you how sorryI am And I don’t […]

I want somebody who sees the pointlessnessand still keeps their purpose in mindI want somebody who has a tortured soulsome of the timeI want somebody who will either put out for meor put me out of miseryor maybe just put it all to wordsand make me say, you knowI never heard it put that waymake […]

hour follows hourlike water follows watereverything is governed by the ruleof one thing leads to anotheryou can’t really place blamecuz blame is much to messysome was bound to get on you while you were tryin to put it on meand don’t fool yourself into thinking things are simplenobody’s lying still the stories don’t line upwhy […]

I am not a pretty girlThat is not what I doI ain’t no damsel in distressAnd I don’t need to be rescuedSo put me down, punkMaybe you’d prefer a maiden fairIsn’t there a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere? I am not an angry girlBut it seems like I’ve got everyone fooledEvery time I say […]

the heat is so greatit plays tricks with the eyeit turns the road to waterand then from water to skyand there’s a crack in the concrete floorand it starts at the sinkthere’s a bathroom in a gas stationand i’ve locked myself in it to think and back in the citythe sun bakes the trash on […]

the big day has comethe bell is soundingi run my hands through my hair one last timeoutside the prison wallsthe town is gatheringpeople are trading crime for crime everyone needs to see the prisonerthey need to make it even easierthey see me as a symbol, and not a human beingthat way they can kill mesay […]

our father who art in a penthousesits in his 37th floor suiteand swivels to gaze downat the city he made me inhe allows me to stand andsollicit graffiti untilhe needs the land I stand onI in my darkened thresholdam pawing through my pocketsthe receipts, the bus schedulesthe matchbook phone numbersthe urgent napkin poemsall of which […]