I do pity you completely
Just that nothing ever quite seems to work
I – the body
You – the truck
So tuck on in, why don’t you!
Storming come rain or shine
Christ, how you sent me blind
Fried my brain – left comatose and crushed
A toast on your deceitful part to the masses of crucially corrosive people who take a wrong kind of stock altogether
I suppose it’s my own fault for posing right there in the very first instance
And now it seems I can barely feel my face, my fingers with their futile attempts to string themselves back together
I’m under the weather, a jet-setter so far from paramount
But answer me this, why do I now lie here ferociously sounded out
Unimportant to both you and yours