I'm not the man I used to be.
Do invalid things so they don't leave.
I could sleep in a tiny bed and on top of things,
with no place they fit.
I'm building things in my garage,
but collect the sawdust.
Cause it might change it's mind
about the shape it takes,
put back the wood that can't be replaced.
Tomorrow night I'll be out with the guys,
but first I'll get some tape & hide
our suitcases with the keys inside;
obscured by a fold lost in design.
I can't be clever, my friends think I'm dumb.
Always on my shoulder, Salacious Crumb.
Afraid to lose the life I gave up
when I willingly died.
I am no longer a man,
just an idea my parents once had.
They're so forgetful in their later years;
it's not my fault I found somebody that
wears my socks at the same time as me.
Siamese twins, met in their twenties.
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