[ Featuring The Goldfish ]
I could never figure out
How to speak without a soundtrack
I, the autodiact, make up for what I lack
By shouting my doubts to a crowd
'Cause when I talk I
Talk too loud
So I lock myself inside for days
And practice perfect turns of phrase
And weave a suit of armor from the straws that I have found
Am I nothing but a scarecrow with nice clothes and a sound
And will they finally learn that I am
Nothing but an effigy
That the best of me belies my
Still beating heart, the way it pounds
When I am swarmed by sparrows
And I'm planted on the ground
I was lying all along
What's the worst that I could do
I could fail to think a phrase through
Though it wouldn't faze you
I'd still be amazed to
See that you're alright
Can we get high on Friday night
Talk of Fagan and of Paganism
Reagan, why they hated him
Debate the way we see the world and when it gets too late
We'll fall asleep together with a nice, clean slate
And I will
Finally get some rest
I will let the morning sun crawl up my arms
Across my chest
And when I wake up far too late
I will make a cup of coffee
And I'll bask in my mistakes
And I'll be alright to be wrong
