The identification falls away 
Like sticks and stones that never got a say
In who I’ve become
And I used to be young
But I always felt old
It doesn’t matter how many times I’m told 
That my whole life’s ahead of me
But I’d rather kiss the dread in me 
As it lays down its head
I always wake up when I am in bed
And the monsters reach out to catch my arms 
They ring the bell when people do themselves harm
In Dean Swift
It’s like an alarm and I am pissed
That for some reason it never tolls for me
And they don’t see I’ve been set free
As I sit in their cage
And there’s so much rage
So I just put it on a page
To catalogue a new brand of product 
I heard hate travels by viaduct
Is the whole thing fucked 
As my parents say to sit down and shut up
Quiet is a kind of love
So I let them stick needles and thorns
Into my skin coz I look forlorn 
And there’s blood but it’s not of my doing
I’m not up for the pursuing 
Anymore
So I just sit on the floor
Of the music room
But the guitar’s out of tune
And there is no capo
I know I could make a map though
Out of all these fragments of signs
They beat me to a pulp ten thousand times
As he makes me apply to the office
I don’t know who will profit
Coz I’ll never run the numbers
Not for him, not for any of their hungers 
And he sends me an email to apply for the accounting exam
I say no but it’s like Mayo and Sam
It doesn’t get heard or come to fruition
I’m all about that early edition

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