Walking to work in the morning,
I look at the concrete
it’s looking, its walking with me.
Sometimes I can’t help
but look at myself in every window that I pass
and I think I need to change my hair,
my shirt,
my body.
My body won’t subside to my desire.
What is my desire?
It is, it is to look a different way.
I’d like to be a book,
I’d like to be old and tattered and sure.
And full of so many confident, different,
confident and different words.
I’d like to know more than I’ve heard.
What is it I’ve heard?
No, I can’t remember what it is that I’ve heard.
Oh, but I am able to look at a picture
and feel something
I feel a lot.
Can’t articulate, I can’t talk
I feel a lot, can’t articulate
can’t talk.
Can’t articulate, can’t talk at all
But, in my head I feel tall.
In my head I feel tall.
In my head I feel
Like I look like I could
have a conversation with you
and you, but I can’t,
No, I won’t,
No, I don’t know anything.
I’m just thinking about living.
I’m just thinking about living.
Worrying about smiling
and worrying about dying,
dying,
dying.
I’m worrying.
I’m worrying,
Worrying, worrying
And everybody wants to talk,
but I just want to listen
Because I’m worrying.
I’m worrying.