nothing new
my unwillingness to move on is a forest fire,
but i’m only a blip in your radar.
i’m such a poser, i might as well be on the front cover of your magazines, that is, if you people still read.
i only bleed for the things that still make me feel special, like lyrics and CDs.
superiority is my mantra.
“i’m sweeter, i’m sweeter”
and goddamn it, i’m repeating myself again.
the shovel is pissed by the way i dig up and rebury the same things.
for the record, i’m an all star label.
promoting my half-assed personality.
i get off on wit and regret, a stand up comedian who’s just getting by.
i smell like stale words because i can only breathe old praise.
press rewind.