Oak Tree Confessions

Cross me out

Baby biscuit Lightly toasted Softly choking At odds with the world Draped in designer shadows Breathing slow Split pea soup DVD technology Intergalactic tar Half empty bag of pretzels hibernating inside a backpack Can anyone point me towards the closest highway? Can someone sing me a lullaby? Am I living in my dreams? Are my dreams a survival mechanism? Will science celebrate my downfall? Will all these unanswered questions ever learn to how to be independent? Get a job and contribute something to society? Become self-aware? Lassie found a boy in the well Hollywood made millions The images were injected into our veins The influence was shoved into our face The music was thrown into the sky The sky became a grand nothingness And we named it God Five stanzas They can’t bring you back They won’t solve my problems They’ll just sit in their whit Waiting for someone to change their diaper