intent
I say "Yeah I'm down,"
Even though I know I won't be there.
It comes out of my mouth so quickly
My heart speaks before my brain
Can process the fact
That its not really a good idea.
I look like someone else now
A cartoon of every grown man
Who is just a kid wearing
Shorts that happen to fit.
I say "that'll be awesome"
Like I'm really going to see it.
And my heart sinks
When it gets the memo
From my gut
Explaining that it just couldn't make it.
That sort of internal dialogue
Is best not communicated
Just tell the other side
What's the real deal:
"I have no idea.
My head fell off years ago
And I've been replacing it with
Balloons ever since."
Intrinsic nature gives way to obsessive compulsive
Pleaser of people
Fearing for his soul
And certain that he'll let everyone down.
Its a classified ad for some sort of
Soothing cream that will
Not actually heal the wound
But distract you by making everything slippery.
But why do I care?
Its not my life.
I'm not the party.
I never was.
I was just riding some casual wave
That hit me on the back of the head
And knocked me silly for two years.
Now its back to the real heart.
The real sound.
My core. My soul.
Blips and beeps across
Interstellar reverbs
Extracted noises from
Exhales of EmCees.
Wrap myself up
in it all
Like the blanket I need
But am too hungry to seek.
I'll say "not this time, let me know next time."
And I'll wink. I'll explain
"Its your thing. You live it.
I got mine."
Even though I know I won't be there.
It comes out of my mouth so quickly
My heart speaks before my brain
Can process the fact
That its not really a good idea.
I look like someone else now
A cartoon of every grown man
Who is just a kid wearing
Shorts that happen to fit.
I say "that'll be awesome"
Like I'm really going to see it.
And my heart sinks
When it gets the memo
From my gut
Explaining that it just couldn't make it.
That sort of internal dialogue
Is best not communicated
Just tell the other side
What's the real deal:
"I have no idea.
My head fell off years ago
And I've been replacing it with
Balloons ever since."
Intrinsic nature gives way to obsessive compulsive
Pleaser of people
Fearing for his soul
And certain that he'll let everyone down.
Its a classified ad for some sort of
Soothing cream that will
Not actually heal the wound
But distract you by making everything slippery.
But why do I care?
Its not my life.
I'm not the party.
I never was.
I was just riding some casual wave
That hit me on the back of the head
And knocked me silly for two years.
Now its back to the real heart.
The real sound.
My core. My soul.
Blips and beeps across
Interstellar reverbs
Extracted noises from
Exhales of EmCees.
Wrap myself up
in it all
Like the blanket I need
But am too hungry to seek.
I'll say "not this time, let me know next time."
And I'll wink. I'll explain
"Its your thing. You live it.
I got mine."