NO, Not in my Skin
Sitting down in this mesh of wood and fabric, what’s a bed anyways when you can’t relax in it? No comfort, no jest, just lots of unrest. Plain and boring like white walls and plaster. I want to be plastered on every TV screen saying shut me off. My whole family looks at me as if I have an answer. If I knew what I wanted to do with my life don’t you try and think twice you know I’d fucking tell you. We’re starting to become astonished that I’m perfectly able to commit to this. If you’re gonna fall down, you got to fall down right. But please stop looking through the glass, healing takes time. So tick-tick-tock the bird’s out of the clock and he’ll chirp a song for you. That’s not enough for the both of us. I need something solid to see this through. You couldn’t sink your teeth into something like that; a rotten piece of the world that you had to spit back in my face to get a message, to give your piece of mind. I find nothing wrong in this, in fact I think it’s exactly what I need. I’m sorry about bringing up all the bad news. And I’m sorry but I would rather just forget about you. It seems bad but we all got to move on somehow. So let’s just pack our bags, get the keys and fucking move out. Observing what’s left of my body, take a mental note. Mixed in emotions lay awful good notions aside. Pulling dead weight off of my back just to float. No, not in my skin will I accept living this lie.
