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Li​(​f​)​e

by Sage Francis

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released May 11, 2010

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Sage Francis Providence, Rhode Island

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Track Name: Little Houdini
Christopher Daniel Gay was arrested on a Friday
In Florida at the Daytona International Speedway.
He was a fugitive on the run. Christopher made a quick escape.
While being transported in a van that was picking up convicts state to state.
He did it during a bathroom break by hot wiring somebody's pick up.
In fact, Christopher a long history of theft involving trucks.
He was en route to Alabama for stealing a travel trailer.
Grand theft auto. He was a career criminal jailbird who also
had three outstanding warrants in his home state of Tennessee.
But it was an outstanding performance that set him free. Little Houdini.
He stole a big rig, then a tour bus that belonged to Crystal Gayle
To evaded a 5-state manhunt that wanted to put that birdy back in jail.
But they failed.

'Cause Christopher wasn't just running from cops. Christopher gay was now racing a clock.
His mother was dying and there was no time to be held inside of a cage with locks.
So y'all can turn up your nose and then suck on your teeth and then wag your finger.
Like "tsk tsk"...but he had to take the risk. Little Houdini.
There wasn't a single thing sinister in his decision to break from the prison.
His only motive was to go back to his childhood home while his mom was still living.
It wasn't a house, more like an old mobile camper
Where she was bed ridden, diagnosed with colon cancer.
Sometimes the only answer that we're left with when a loved one's name is on the death list
Is to head for the exits and go home, so Christopher got the hell out of Texas.
His abandonment was reckless and it prolonged his sentence.
Forget it. He had numerous convictions but none were as strong as this.
Unless you consider the other instance he went the distance
In a similar situation. It was a bizarre coincidence
When he escaped from prison the first time. Not this time, but the one before.
He visited is dad because he was dying inside of a mental ward.
Suffering from Alzheimer's. He paid respects, made his peace.
When he was done, he didn't run, he brought himself back to the police.
That's when his mother made her plea. She said...

"He knows what he done was wrong
But he knows his father don't got long.
He's not a fugitive on the run.
He's not dangerous, he's our son and he ain't never hurt no one.
He knows what he done was wrong
But he knows his father don't got long.
He's not a fugitive on the run, he's our son!"
And this ain't no country western song.

Christopher wasn't just running from cops. Christopher Gay was now racing a clock.
His mother was dying and there was no time to be held inside of a cage with locks.
So y'all can go on and toss your rocks and talk your talk like "tsk tsk"
Meanwhile Chris is stealing a tractor trailer from Walmart.
An 18 wheeler, he's peeling rubber, the bird takes flight down turnpikes.
With $300,000 worth of merchandise...but it ain't worth her life.
He ran it off the road and abandoned it 50 yards from his mom's
To avoid the cops. That's a half a football field from her feeble arms.
After all this stuff; tour bus, the pick up trucks,
the tractor trailer, interstate chases, he put on his breaks and couldn't get close enough.
The news reporters told people to lock their doors
Like there was a monster on the loose but there was no truth to those reports.
His mom had weeks to live. And Chris had years to serve.
They were within shouting distance but I don't think he heard her final words.
I don't think he heard her final words.
She made her plea to the T.V.

"He knows what he done was wrong
But he knows his momma don't got long.
He's not a fugitive on the run.
He's not dangerous, he's my son and he ain't never hurt no one.
He knows what he done was wrong
But he knows his momma don't got long.
He's not a fugitive on the run, he's my son!"
And this ain't no country western song.

The third time he escaped from a state cop at a Georgia pit stop
He just slipped out of the handcuffs, he jumped ship and he took off.
With no father to visit and no mom to go home to.
Just an open road where he could be free. Little Houdini.
With no father to visit and no mom to go home to.
Just a wide open sky where he could fly.
With no father to visit and no mom to go home to.
Just an open road where he could be free. Little Houdini.
Track Name: Three Sheets to the Wind
Had one too many one-way conversations with the Lord
Until I grew a scissor tongue and cut the cord.
I left the phone on the floor. Detached the wires in my head.
Took me a while to accept that that line was dead.

Didn't never want to not live forever. Didn't never want to not not want to live.

It didn't matter if the laughter didn't come after the bad joke.
If I was down with the filthy rich or flat broke.
accepted by the Aryans or black folk.
'Cause I was carrying this weight until my back broke.
I wasn't trying to be no hip-hop God or rap's G.O.A.T.
Shooting to be no rock star like it's my last hope.
Eyeballing that pack of smokes like "Do me in."
Or graduating on to crack coke like "do me in."
Knocked off the paddle boat in the middle of a castle moat.
The King's men are yelling "grab the rope!"
Three sheets to the wind.

I talk like a sailor. My mother is one.
That's where I got this 6th sense of direction and my split tongue.
Taught me how to go with the flow when the winds come
But I curled up in a ball and tried to hide inside the kick drum.
While the crew was getting piss drunk
I had to purify my own and drink up.
I had to save and conserve, recycle my salty words
to keep the meat on my bones well preserved.

Didn't never want to not live forever. Didn't never want to not not want to live.

We had a tug of war and we all fought together,
then we went our own way when the cord was severed.
The stormy weather would begin. We'd all succumb to the sin.
Any port within reach.
Three sheets to the wind.
From a back pedal to back stroke. I traded in my life jacket for a mask and cloak.
Three sheets to the wind.
Had to cope, joist the sail, grab the rope.
Sea shanty ending on a bad note.
Three sheets to the wind.
Malnutrition "do me in." Bad religion "do me in."
Fact or fiction, that's addiction.
Three sheets to the wind.

Didn't never want to not live forever. Didn't never want to not not want to live.
Track Name: I Was Zero
If it wasn't for the bass
I wouldn't need these hearing aids.
If it wasn't for mistakes
I probably wouldn't be here today.

10 years ago I was 22.
20 years ago I was 12.
30 years ago I was 2.
When I came out my momma I was zero.

In the before life...I was undead.
I was home schooled. There were no rules.
But I gave it all up just for the chance to go public.
A celestial scarecrow dancing with the puppets
A tug in my gut. I'm carrying the world in my stomach.
I'm a surrogate motherfucker, the girls love it.
Birth the suffix. Cut the visible string.
Control is much more than a physical thing.

I was born into it and before I knew it
I saw the students of poor getting hauled off to war.
It's the law of Judas in the land of king's tax.
Partake in the Eucharist and then demand your kick backs.
Spiritual wrist slap, please pass the sacrament
and ask if big, bad, black Jesus was African.
They're selling a click track but they call it a soul clap.
It's all in how you package it. The power of a magic trick.
Immaculate concepts are lost in the land of the cross.
I'm standing off with a man of the cloth.
He knows the ins and outs. All I want is the outs.
He's selling real estate for some place in the clouds, but...
I'm not investing in intellectual property.
I'm inventing gender bending technology.
'Cause maybe everybody needs to just become a sexual oddity
Leaving birth to the test tubes and death to the lottery.
There's no one stopping me, I gotta be self-regulating.
Wealth is escalating but my poverty was entertaining.
Now I'm debating the value of a caste system,
Cash back rewards and wars funded by my taxed income.
If I'm a part of the problem then pardon me.
There's always been a difference between what I am and what I wanna be.
It's either Jihadist freak or Jesus scenester.
I heard God is coming...and she's a screamer.
I couldn't understand what she was telling me.
Why everybody thinks they're their own worst enemy.
I followed the manual. I swallowed the skeleton key.
And it unlocked the hell in me.

so this is my gift to God.
Ribbon on my dick, like a tourniquet. Syphilis.
This is my gift to God.
I'm jumping out the cake. Naked with a shank.
This is my gift to God.
Unwrap the package. Confetti made of maggots.
this...is my...gift. Ugh, you call that talent?
Here's your image back. You can have it.

10 years ago I was 22.
20 years ago I was 12.
30 years ago I was 2.
When I came out my momma I was zero.
Track Name: Slow Man
I'm a slow man. Gotta get up and go, man. I know, man.
It's like I'm half of a whole man. Gotta get back on the program.
So let's go, man.

Slow man...
Looking for a slow woman who wants to slow dance.
I'm a slow man in my slow man stance.
Looking for a slow woman who don't care that I'm old lookin'

Or got my soul tooken back where the fallen angels land.
I know Brooklyn like the back of a stranger's hand.
Can't recognize my own...I wing it though.
I bring it home. Familiarity's the first thing to go.

Next thing you know...there's a photo that you're staring at.
And you can't quite place the face that is staring back.
Someone erased the names and the facts, dates on the back.
Maybe they're just fading so fast...

You can't keep up with it. Can't recover it.
Lost in the shuffle of the Grand Prix hustlers.
If you can't keep up to speed with the mother ship
And can't take the heat then your man needs the oven mitts.

I can't be the judge of it. These hands bleed.
'Cause they reached for some answers and got trampled by a stampede
of know-it-all homogeneous types. The look-alikes.
The kids burn my music and the parents burn the books I write.

I think back to those lonely Brooklyn nights.
I was either soul searching or just looking for fights.
Each woman had her price. The dice didn't roll right.
All my jobs were odd ones, my problems had bold type.

Snow white didn't expect that I'd leave 'er.
The strobe light set off epileptic seizures.
I know write from wrong when I write these songs.
My goals in life ain't what I set my sights on.

I'm a slow man. Gotta get up and go, man. I know, man.
It's like I'm half of a whole man. Gotta get back on the program.
So let's go, man.

Slow man...in my slow man stance.
Looking for a slow woman who wants to slow dance.
I'm a slow man in my slow man stance.
Looking for a slow woman who don't mind my home cookin'

I'm no good when I'm a bad, bad man
I'm a dance so slow that it appears to be my last stand.
But I'm a bad bad man.
I'm a dance so slow that it looks like a photo.

Truth be told.
It takes more than having a picture taken for you to lose your soul.
Track Name: Diamonds and Pearls
Surprising the world with diamonds and pearls. But a song about a girl ain't really about a girl.
I've got a two way vanity mirror. I'm an Amityvillain with a peeping tom complex.
You're just a soul collector. You keep putting them in a trash bag.
You push 'em in a shopping cart then you go and act sad
When there are none left to collect. So you go on and you make more.
But wait, why'd you lose 'em to the State for?
The next time you see me it'll be through plexiglass.
Ain't no bail outs in this jail house. Ain't no more petty cash.
Easy come, easy go. A penny saved a penny earned. I've learned
Life is cliche and one of these days you'll get what you deserve.
So I'm surprising the world with diamonds and pearls. But a song about a girl ain't really bout a girl.
Got a two way vanity mirror
And a fire in the blind eye that I turn from the 800 pound gorilla.
In the midst of misdirected anger...
False blood can run thinner than icy water. Watch the a fang banger
Flirt with the death star. I cried by the bed side.
Decided right then to pretend you were alive. Maybe.
Baby, lie to me. Invade my privacy. have the decency to say bye after taking the bribe. Domestic piracy.
You ran out of fam to plunder and launchpads to crash
So when you're done playing dumb empty the trash.
We're looking for our lives back. We wish we could have saved yours.
There's nothing we can buy back, 'cause everything was paid off.
I found you in a pawn shop. You were stuck behind a glass case.
I watched as the cost dropped. Puppy dog, sad face.
I put a down payment on my meal plan just to see your shit eating grin.
Save the frown for when you need to shed your skin
And sell empty shells of yourself. The layers are coming off.
Economic fail. Professional victim on sale....cutting costs.
Charity case, don't ask me to donate. You axe murdered your soul mate.
My backs hurtin' from a tax burden. Pull your own weight.
Punching bag for hire. Every minute there's a sucker bet.
So what's the over/under you'll rise up from the debt
With the complexion of a ghost? The resurrection was a hoax.
But 2000 years later it's like....nobody knows.
You think you're slick enough to turn a trick and spin the story
Just 'cause Jesus is your fair weather pimp and caught me
Praying with my fingers crossed. So I shuffle up the deck.
Is this the card that you picked? Well, if not...how bout this:
Missionary aint a job, it's a position...so assume it.
The victimless crime watchdog has an owner...that's abusive.
Isn't that ironic? With one hand in my pocket
And the other choking out your street corner prophet.
Uncrossed my fingers and said, "Look at me when I'm talkin', dear.
I ain't mad at you. And that's the only miracle here."
Track Name: Polterzeitgeist
While you're going around trying to keep people out of hell,
I'm going around trying to keep the hell out of people.

Your evil sends chills through my bones and it flows through the back roads of my arteries.
Genetic memory fights technology
Administered by moral midgets.
There's picket signs in my eyes. When they strike you'll wanna talk business.
Note to self, go for self, go for broke
No one else ever showed you the ropes or helped.
And what are they supposed to do?
Of course they gotta rebuild every wall that you broke on through.
Drugs won't get my thoughts runnin'
I need em to make these thoughts stop comin'.
Last night I had a dream I shot someone.
When I awoke my hands were full of the fluid my heart's pumpin'.
I went to get it tested.
The doctor was not so interested in analyzing the message.
He had a pill...that if he issues out...
He gets paid on the side. I got a lifetime supply.

Maybe he's a ghost.
And maybe I'm the host.
The Polterzeitgeist who knows the right price
To pay the priest to release me from these ropes.
Maybe I'm the ghost.
And maybe he's the host.
The Polterzeitgeist who knows the right price
To pay the priest to release me from these ropes.

I fell into a Venus fly trap with a nicotine eye patch.
Pirate of the ship, sippin' Listerine nightcaps.
Disguised her voice with the breath of a clean slate.
Awake every morning to the death of my dream date.
Selling sex to cheapskates with rusty blades.
Fuck to forget and call it lay away.
Got an addiction to thin ice. The whisper of wind pipes.
I'm mister insight. This social costume is skin tight.
Nah, I don't believe in you.
And you don't believe that I'm leaving you.
As you shrink away to nothing in my rear view.
Too close to call. Too far to be hearing you
Singing my melody. I heard it subconsciously.
When you spoke in your sleep it sounded like honesty.
When you awoke, you said it was not for me.
I said, “Oh...I know...obviously.”
You're not my Yoko so I cropped the photo
And I rocked it solo. Now you gotsta go...GO!

Maybe you're a ghost.
And maybe I'm the host.
The Polterzeitgeist who knows the right price
To pay the priest to release me from these ropes.
Maybe I'm the ghost.
And maybe you're the host.
The Polterzeitgeist who knows the right price
To pay the priest to release me from these ropes.

Maybe you're a ghost...and I'm the conduit.
The common thread in every superficial compliment.
The loose string in your moral fabric. Hole in your logic.
Hopelessly romantic in a wound socket.
Leaving notes for the next to come.
Written in blood from the wound that they'll exit from.
I don't compose prose or sonnets.
I just write like my life depends on it.
Front like I'm agnostic. But...I don't believe in you.
You've got a transparent nature that I'm seeing through.
Someone spiked the punch that you beat me to.
Sometimes I'm not even sure it's even you.

Maybe you're a ghost. And maybe I'm the host.
The Polterzeigiest who knows the right price to pay the priest to release me from these ropes.
Track Name: The Baby Stays
I've got nothing to teach the learning curve of your body. I've got teeth that could hurt you probably. With one bite.
A tongue with spikes. A rusty knife. I wish you'd take it from me and gut me like a fish. Uptight and selfish.
Got a lust for life and a death wish. They're husband and wife and they fuck like they're helpless.
Am I a product of uninteresting sex if I get bored by the pillow talk and Newport cigarettes?
She chews on fiberglass like a teething infant. He breathes in her stink and seems indifferent. She dreams of children.
He hears the pitter-patter of little fetuses. He's like,
"Stand by Me! There's a leach in my briefs and I'm bleeding like a stuck pig. Come quick! Think of a baby's name."
She wanted to call it quits.
I'm gonna name him Raymond and raise him like I don't know my own strength then bench press the baby naked.
Hold it to the sky like, "Look what I did! It's mine...and you can't have it!"
Until it rains. And when it rains, he sticks out his tongue to catch it. The baby stays.

He stares into the abyss 'til the abyss blinks. Instincts pop up to the surface like pin pricks.
Still flinch. Man handle the kill switch. Peg meet square. Get dismantled by drill bits.
The deconstruction of a functional addict. Leaving assumptions to a bunch of fanatics.
It's all standard prodedure with an automatic pilot light. Hide behind a white lab rain coat 'cause the water broke.
Press eject. First comes the head, then the neck, then the body avalanches out the tape deck.
Flopping on the ground like a fish out of its element.
No one wants to acknowledge the carnage, the mess or elephant
That's in the room...connected to the womb with a lifeline.
Labored all day, through morning noon and night time.
Then we cut the cord fully aware that what we keep on the inside is too personal to share.
But now we hold it in the air like,
"Look what happened. If we throw it out with the bathwater will you catch it?
Or let it go down the drain? If it goes down the drain I'm a snatch it."
The baby stays.
Track Name: 16 Years
The sun flies through the sky and leaves darkness in its wake.
Now I hear hell hounds barking at the gate.
To be honest, sometimes I don't want you to relate.
This ain't up for discussion. It's not a topic for debate.
Entrepreneurs they want to bottle up the hate.
Slap a label on the glass so hard that it'll break.
If you break it, you buy it, and we sold it by the case.
It's OK if you just try it. Hold it to your face.
See how close you get without touching it.
See how far removed you can get from the public.
Can you keep a secret? if not, can you tie a slip knot?
Can you stand high up on this brick block?
Listen to the clock tick tock and switch gears.
It's been 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 years

Are they all dancing now? Have you joined the party?
Are you celebrating life just by destroying your body?
That's a part of your psyche that I want to sight see.
I don't need you as a tour guide and I don't want you to like me.
I was voted least likely. That's it. Just "least likely."
So pardon me if I seem feisty.
Bite my tongue like a bullet. Take a pull from the peace pipe.
Push past the low expectations of me each night.
I leave light in my sleep, I moonwalk across the floor
Until I hear the sex kittens purring at the door.
There's something outside that we all want.
But inside there's an ex who marks a soft spot.
'Til it rots and decays and then no one else cares.
It's been 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 years.

I sell pennies to the well wishers. Fish through the coin slots.
Fall for a girl's bait. Participate in boycotts.
Demonstrate a demon's trait with a face void of thoughts.
If that don't launch a thousand ships then that's the Helen of Troy's loss.
Baby, there's nothing in this horse.
It's hollow. It's empty. Its entry will not be forced.
It's like an eye socket stripped clean of tears,
It's been 13, 14, 15, 16 years.
Track Name: Worry Not
Worry not. Keep your stress in check.
Anxiety's a disease. You gotta' learn to live with it.
The cancer spreads. It'll eat right through.
There ought to be a quarantine for people like you.

I keep clenching my jaw while I sleep.
But I ain't got no dental insurance so I purchased a mouth piece.
It helps me collect all my teeth
'Cause they keep falling out in my dreams.
I'm repeating each step 'til I'm knee deep in sweat.
'Til you need deeper sleep, between sheets you'll need sex.
If you need to eat meat then just feed on the flesh.
If your will power's weak, seek and ye shall find death.
It'll rent, it'll lease, it'll own you.
You can't teach no new tricks to no old fool.
I've been banned from the bible but I stand on my own two.
Running from self but my legs have no clue.
Burning through every last nerve that I've got.
This condition is more than deserved but i'm not
Killing the time. I'm wringing its neck. Choking it out and I'm stealing its breath.
Sucking it in and then blowing a kiss
To the caution I tossed to the wind...like...this.

Worry not. Keep your stress in check.
Anxiety's a disease. You gotta' learn to live with it.
The cancer spreads. It'll eat right through.
There ought to be a quarantine for people like you.

Oh, you're scared of the dark? Then sleep in the light.
You came for the bark but then leave when I bite?
You're breaking a sweat. You faint and awake
With a fang in your neck and a pain in your chest.
Now you're losing your power. You're drained and you're wet.
When you threw in the towel I caught it like wreck.
It was well payed. You ain't self made.
You went from daycare to preschool from K through 12th grade
That's some hard-wiring in your brain.
Not to mention the rules of the house where you stayed.
The synagogue, mosque or the church where you prayed
As a child. Tamed like youre wild.
Reprogram. Deprogram.
There ain't nothing they say we don't know, man.
They've been preying on vulnerable people and claiming that everything in us is evil.
I'll see them in hell then. But until then
You should chill, friend. Just chill.
Play pretend with the forces of organized superstition and get played in the end.
You were killing the time, I was wringing it's neck,
Choking it out and then steal its breath.
Sucking it in and then blowing a kiss
To the caution I tossed to the wind...like...this.

Worry not. Keep your stress in check.
Anxiety's a disease. You gotta' learn to live with it.
The cancer spreads. It'll eat right through.
There ought to be a quarantine for people like you.
Track Name: London Bridge
The London Bridge is falling. The Tower of Pisa is leaning.
The Statue of Liberty is green with envy.
Penny for your thoughts. Penny for your loaves,
For your clothes, the dress code, the tradition of all things.
London Bridge is falling.
India's got salt on its coast and there's a tea party in Boston.
The London Bridge is...
Made of wood and clay but that wouldn't stay.
No matter how hard the people prayed the materials just washed away.
They could have used rocks. Rocks don't bend or bow.
But quite frankly they had too many enemies to stone
In the empire. The empire state.
The empire state is building.
The Taj is on fire. These tourist traps make a killing.
Heathens bow down to the siren.
There's an emergency for bread and cheese. There are riots in the street.
The earth shall inherit the meek
When Canada puts up a fence because their medicine's so cheap.
America's asleep. The old man is snoring
And London bridge is falling.
I've got the best seat in the house. They hired me as a watchman.
London Bridge is falling
India's got salt on its coast and there's a tea party in Boston.
London Bridge is...
made of stainless steel and wrought iron.
That wall of China ain't so great. I built a bridge over a hymen.
It goes up to the sky and mother Mary is crying.
My fair lady, don't cry. It's gonna be alright.
'Cause I'm alive. I'm alive and kicking.
Tea Party in Boston. The London Bridge is falling.
The London Bridge is falling? Ahhhhgghhhhh!
Track Name: Love the Lie
Love the lie that you live if it gives love back. You don't gotta stay together for the kids.
If you wanna disappear don't announce it. Vanish in thin air and bounce quick.
Fix the cow lick, slick your hair back. Ride the rhythm bare back. Get stared at.
Lady Godiva might've been an exhibitionist. I'm not here to judge your voyeuristic fetishes.
If nobody looked then it's a closed book. You can put those hang ups on a coat hook.
I'm from a puritanical land where they burned witches.
I'm the result of a cult figure burning up with sickness.
The cure never came. Jesus never helped. We were all to blame. Got beatings with a belt.
If I heard your name I'd retreat into myself. I won't hurt your name I'll just keep it to myself.
With love.

Love life. Love God, girls and lies.
I can't hear through those veneers but you keep speaking through those pearly whites.

No legacy to claim. No enemies to squelch. No chemical imbalance that can remedy itself.
Pedestal for the parents. Medicine is on the shelf. Put the trophy in the spotlight. Watch as it melts.
Metal would have survived. Plastic is cheaper. I ran into the fire and she asked me to leave her.
Did what I could with the wood and the flammables. Stood with the good little animals.
Then ran with the bulls. Soot on my hands that we full. I left the good book on the mantle.
Burn baby burn, you can serve as a candle. The last thing I heard was her on the piano.
The last thing I saw was her being herself by beating herself just to see if that could help.
If I heard your name I'd retreat into myself. Now I won't hurt your name I'll just keep it to myself.
With love.

The cure never came. Jesus never helped.
We were all to blame. Got beatings with a belt.
If I heard your name I'd retreat into myself.
I won't hurt your name. I'll keep it to myself.
No legacy to claim. No enemies to squelch.
No chemical imbalance that can remedy itself.
Pedestal is for the parents. Medicine is on the shelf.
Put the trophy in the spotlight. Watch as it melts with love.

Love the lie. Love the lie. Love the lie. Love the lie. Love the lie.
Track Name: The Best of Times
It's been a long and lonely trip but I'm glad that I took it 'cause it was well worth it.
I got to read a couple books and do some research before I reached my verdict.
Never thought that I was perfect. Always thought that I had a purpose.
Used to wonder if I'd live to see my first kiss.
The most difficult thing I ever did was recite my own words at a service
Realizing the person I was addressin' probably wasn't looking down from heaven.
Or cooking up something in hell's kitchen. Trying to listen in or eaves drop from another dimension.
It was self serving just like this is.
Conveniently religious on Easter Sunday and on Christmas.
The television went from being a babysitter to a mistress.
Technology made it easy for us to stay in touch while keeping a distance.
'Til we just stayed distant and never touched.
Now all we do is text too much.
I don't remember much from my youth. Maybe my memory is repressed.
Or I just spent too much time wondering if I'd live to have sex.
Fell in love for the first time in 4th grade but I didn't have the courage to talk to her.
In 8th grade I wrote her the note but I slipped it in someone else's locker.
Considered killing myself 'cause of that. It was a big deal. It was a blown cover.
It was over for me. My goose was cooked. Stick a fork it me. The jig is up.
I blew my chances, the rest is history, our future was torn asunder.
It became abundantly clear that I was only brought here to suffer.
At least I didn't include my name. Thankfully I wrote the whole note in code
And it had 10 layers of scotch tape safety seal making it impossible to open.
Plus it was set to self destruct whoever read it probably died laughing.
I wonder if they lived long enough to realize what happened.
A year later, I came to understand that wasn't love that I was feeling for her.
I had someone else to obsess over. I was older. I was very mature.
I forged my time signature while practicing my parents autograph
'Cause I was failing math. Disconnected the phone when I thought the teacher would call my home.
I checked the mailbox twice a day at the end of a long dirt road.
Steamed open a couple envelopes like I was in private detective mode.
If you snoop around long enough for something in particular you're gauranteed to find it.
For better or worse that's how I learned that it's best to just keep some things private.
It was the best of times.
It was the end of times.

It was the best of times. It was the end of times. I was always on deck, I was next in line.
An only child with a pen and pad writing a list of things that I could never have.
The walls in my house were paper thin. Every squabble seemed to get deafening.
If my memory serves me correctly I made it a point to void and forget some things.
Probably to keep from being embarrased. Never meant to upset or give grief to my parents.
Kept my secrets...hid my talents...in my head, never under the mattress.
Therapy couldn't break me. Never learned a word that would insure safety.
So I spoke softly and I tip toed often. The door to my room was like a big old coffin.
The way that it creeked when I closed it shut. Anxieties peaked when it opened up
As if everything that I was thinking would be exposed. I still sleep fully clothed.
It was the best of times.
It was the end of times.

It was beautiful. it was brutal. It was cruel. It was business as usual.
Heaven. It was hell. Used to wonder if I'd live to see 12.
When I did I figured that I was immortal. Loved to dance but couldn't make it to the formal.
Coudn't bear watching my imaginary girlfriend bust a move with any other dudes.
Tone Loc was talking bout a "wild thang" but I was still caught up in some child thangs.
Scared of a God who couldn't spare the rod. It was clearly a brimstone and fire thang.
Pyromaniac. Kleptomaniac. Couldn't explain my desire to steal that fire.
Now I add it to my rider. Like "Please oh please don't throw me in that patch of briar.
It was the best of times.
It was the end of times.

The school counselor was clueless 'cause I never skipped classes. Perfect attendance. Imperfect accent.
Speech impediment they could never really fix and I faked bad eyesight so I could wear glasses.
Considered doing something that would cripple me.I wanted a wheelchair. I wanted the sympathy.
I wanted straight teeth so then came braces. 4 years of head gear helped me change faces.
It was the best of times.
It was the end of times.

Now I wonder if I'll live to see marriage. Wonder if I'll live long enough to have kids.
Wonder if I'll live to see my kids have kids. And if I do I'm a tell 'em how it is. Like:
Don't listen when they tell you that these are your best years.
Don't let anybody protect your ears.
It's best that you hear what they don't want you to hear. It's better to have pressure from peers than not have peers. Beer won't give you chest hair. Spicy food won't make it curl. When you think you've got it all figured out and then your universe collapses...trust me, kid...it's not the end of the world.