The Lawrence Arms
Another Boring Story
Displacement, the basement, isolation cemented
Relented six stairs down
Naked bulb, tired lungs, tired eyes, crooked thumbs
Not up but sideways for now
The rise and fall and gentle drops
Precipitation never stops
I pulled the clouds inside me and
Now it's raining, raining again
Cried in my sleep last night for the first time
Dying while I live, living where we die
Futility abounds, futility abounds, futility abounds
Futility abounds, six feet deep beneath the coffee grounds
These ashtrays are volcanoes now
Apartments burning red and brown
Salt the earth and never grow
Notice ashes look like snow
Fallen and just sitting there
More trash than a county fair
The smell of crowds, a burning nose
A smell familiarly morose
Half-assed attempt only to fail
Half-assed reflection ghostly pale
You're waving while I disappear
Ashes cementing my fear