My withdrawl from marijuana :)
It's funny, what happens,
when my head is clear.
Because it's really not clear at all.
I find myself dwelling,
no longer mellow,
in the shallow pools of an 18 year old's existence.
What do I say?
And when and where and why not?
What do I do today,
to make me seem normal?
Am I interesting?
Oh, who am I kidding?
I'm one huge bore.
So it's nice sometimes, to free my head,
of the everyday mess and stress,
and "do these shoes go with this dress?"
And instead of all the worry,
the question and concern,
I'm able to contemplate the things that are forgotten,
like the dancing shadows of trees
on the concrete under everyone's feet,
and what will become of the hairs in your nose?
When you pluck them, where do they go?
And why on earth do his feet move so sloppy?
The untied laces always skirming for help,
spaghetti on a paper plate,
underwater kelp.
And why is the sky blue?
Why do you never see me, when I always see you?
And how fast does the earth move...
slower than a tail spin?
My hands are softer than a snail's skin
on an alligator alley, big yellow sunglasses, probing eyes, dilly dally.
Why do bugs sting? Birds have wings? Grandpa's die? Baby's cry?
Why do your jokes sting my big toe,
like those black stillettos,
I wear every Saturday?
Don't walk the other way, won't you please stay?
And why do I always want you, and you never want me?
Pass the weed this way, I'm a little bit crazy.
when my head is clear.
Because it's really not clear at all.
I find myself dwelling,
no longer mellow,
in the shallow pools of an 18 year old's existence.
What do I say?
And when and where and why not?
What do I do today,
to make me seem normal?
Am I interesting?
Oh, who am I kidding?
I'm one huge bore.
So it's nice sometimes, to free my head,
of the everyday mess and stress,
and "do these shoes go with this dress?"
And instead of all the worry,
the question and concern,
I'm able to contemplate the things that are forgotten,
like the dancing shadows of trees
on the concrete under everyone's feet,
and what will become of the hairs in your nose?
When you pluck them, where do they go?
And why on earth do his feet move so sloppy?
The untied laces always skirming for help,
spaghetti on a paper plate,
underwater kelp.
And why is the sky blue?
Why do you never see me, when I always see you?
And how fast does the earth move...
slower than a tail spin?
My hands are softer than a snail's skin
on an alligator alley, big yellow sunglasses, probing eyes, dilly dally.
Why do bugs sting? Birds have wings? Grandpa's die? Baby's cry?
Why do your jokes sting my big toe,
like those black stillettos,
I wear every Saturday?
Don't walk the other way, won't you please stay?
And why do I always want you, and you never want me?
Pass the weed this way, I'm a little bit crazy.