Closet Space
Guilt is the gift that keeps on giving
And lies are skeletons that keep on living
So... so yeah, I guess, count me in,
But i'm doubting that this is a fight we can win.
Liquid thoughts... flashbacks... ignored,
Too smart to be stupid, too stupid to be bored.
The best of both worlds in a paper bag,
All grown up, your shoulders sag.
You chose to bend and not stand up tall
Rather than risk the longer fall.
The meek shall inherit God's green earth,
But the curse of life is in too much birth.
And... and yeah, I'll come along,
Though I only know the words to ne of their songs.
I tripped over my guilt so long ago,
What I'm still guilty of, I don't know.
It's trapped inside me, bottled and corked,
With most too stupid to know how it worked:
The deluge too great to hold in your hand,
Or anyone else's; I doubt anyone can.
And in all my mixed-up, messed-up thoughts,
I'm usually right in the battles I've fought.
It's hard to stay clean when the guilt feels so good
And hard to do something if I doubted I could.
It's scary to live when you didn't plan ahead
Because you expected for all the world you'd be dead.
Well... sure, I've always wanted to do that,
Guilt is the gift that keeps me in line
And lies are skeletons that don't leave with time.
Believe me when I say, I'm running out of closet space...
I've always loved the phone, because you can't see my face.
You can't see my tear-stained semblance
Or recommend how I should do penance.
Lose me in myself... I'm ready to go
And finally learn what I'm not s'posed to know
About myself... well, I'm in,
And I won't give up, because that's giving in.
I'll keep up my shining, smiling face...
Believe me when I say I'm running out of closet space.
.
