Atmosphere: 1993 Epiphany
“What else should I be?” I don’t know what I am.
How am I supposed to answer that, man?
“All apologies…” what does that even mean?
“All in all is all we are…” oh come on man.
I like the way it sounds, no one else does though.
Sitting at this foursquare table really blows.
I’m cooler than everyone, just no one knows.
I think it matters, but sometimes I’m like, so?
Writing in this book sucks, I hate this topic.
I’m gonna write about what I like, not shit.
Kurtd Kobain kicks butt, and you suck eggs you bitch.
I don’t care if you have more money than me.
“I’m going to tell on you, you’re bad Kali!”
Ya, whatever, Rape Me why don’t you, ugly.
I don’t think I knew what that meant, truthfully
I can’t wait to go home and play with Polly.
“What else should I be?” an artist probably.
I could be a rock star, I can sing in key.
Go ahead, ask the music teacher, trust me.
And, “we can plant a house, we can build a tree.”
“All apologies…” I get it, I am free.
From your hands, and yours, and yours, and yours Polly.
Does your back still hurt; are you as bored as me?
I am getting it now, I am so ready.
“All in all is all we are…” no one else gets it.
But I do, so no more foursquare table shit.
I can go to monkey bars, swings, or sand pit.
It doesn’t matter now that I am one who gets it.
“I don't care what you think…” that’s now what I say.
It’s just; I think I know where I am today.
Maybe not tomorrow, but I can daydream.
About me, and what will become of this me.
How am I supposed to answer that, man?
“All apologies…” what does that even mean?
“All in all is all we are…” oh come on man.
I like the way it sounds, no one else does though.
Sitting at this foursquare table really blows.
I’m cooler than everyone, just no one knows.
I think it matters, but sometimes I’m like, so?
Writing in this book sucks, I hate this topic.
I’m gonna write about what I like, not shit.
Kurtd Kobain kicks butt, and you suck eggs you bitch.
I don’t care if you have more money than me.
“I’m going to tell on you, you’re bad Kali!”
Ya, whatever, Rape Me why don’t you, ugly.
I don’t think I knew what that meant, truthfully
I can’t wait to go home and play with Polly.
“What else should I be?” an artist probably.
I could be a rock star, I can sing in key.
Go ahead, ask the music teacher, trust me.
And, “we can plant a house, we can build a tree.”
“All apologies…” I get it, I am free.
From your hands, and yours, and yours, and yours Polly.
Does your back still hurt; are you as bored as me?
I am getting it now, I am so ready.
“All in all is all we are…” no one else gets it.
But I do, so no more foursquare table shit.
I can go to monkey bars, swings, or sand pit.
It doesn’t matter now that I am one who gets it.
“I don't care what you think…” that’s now what I say.
It’s just; I think I know where I am today.
Maybe not tomorrow, but I can daydream.
About me, and what will become of this me.