On Corners and Shapes

RED RIGHT HAND

I hope you don’t think I give a fuck. I hope you don’t think I give a fuck. But now and then I start to see it.
I’m always trying to give it up. I’m always trying to give it up. But it’s not so easy to abandon

It's the orneriest branch in the spoke of the plan, as I am going to town with my red right hand, I'm tired of spilling the seed of a celibate man. Give me life, give me lust, take me home.

I will decide when you’ve had enough I hope you know I’m inclined to be generous You’re such a sweetheart I’ll eat you up
Oh, I just want you no make-up on. All I want on the couch in your living room Is just to see what our bodies do What you do to me, what I’ll do to you

And it’s the process of pulling a heart from a chest And as she whispers my name as I’m tasting her breast It’s just a product of living a life so repressed. We get off, then I go home alone.

I hope you don’t think I give a fuck. I hope you don’t think I give a fuck. No, no, no!

I am the prodigal brother, the lion, the lamb I am a snake in the grass and a bird in the hand b/c there’s a change in the tide, there’s a shift in the wind, and I'm tired of being alone. Give me life, give me lust, take me home. Give me life, give me lust, take me...

I hope you don’t think I give a fuck. I hope you don’t think I give a fuck.

ALL THINGS NEW

Got a little demon creeping up my spine, pulling my strings, looking out my eyes, eating my food and fucking my wife. Driving my car. Tells me when it's time to leave. But I've been feeling pretty anxious lately, with all the things that used to satiate me. I just want to let the water take me. I just want to make all things new.

So just cry if you've gotta, let it die if you wanna What were you hoping to find? Cry if you gotta, let it die if you wanna Whatever you're hoping to find, it's a big fucking waste of your time.

Got a bad feeling I put a thorn in my side when I took a favorite whore and I made her my wife. A thousand tiny cuts, such a pretty little knife but I just wanna make all things new.
You wanted me to teach you how to speak the truth but you choked on the words at the first taste you got of some ugly truth about you. And you wanted me to hang around and see you through, but every time I turn around you're never really there, you're on to something new.

Time seems like a circle to me when you lie in that way I could never believe. So I think you ought to get over yourself, you need to get over yourself. Why don't we get over ourselves?

So just cry if you've gotta, let it die if you wanna What were you hoping to find? Cry if you gotta, let it die if you wanna Whatever you're hoping to find, You're a big fucking waste of my time.

Had a little demon, grew twice in size. Been pulling my strings, looking out my eyes, been wearing my skin like a goddamn prize, but we just want to make all things new. I've been feeling pretty reckless lately and all the things that used to motivate me, they're at the bottom of the river, maybe I just want to make all things new.

THE ALONE, TOGETHER

"So tell if you still believe in love like you used to" Well, I don't know if I want to, it just doesn't make much sense in light of current events.. "So you're just moving your allegiances to bitterness?!" No, I didn't say that. You're putting words in my mouth and I've got enough of my own that I need to get out. What I mean is that I'm done singing songs about love like I know the first thing about getting along.

It's in my head, and I can't seem to shake it!

"So tell me, don't you worry you'll end up dying alone?" Of course, are you saying that you think that you won't? Well, I've got some bad news: Death is coming for you! And you will be alone when you shake his hand. But I think I know what you mean, but it's really living alone that's the nightmare. I wanna fuck every woman, wanna kill every man, but I'm finding the whole thing too exhausting to care.

But it's in my head and I can't seem to shake it. "Get it through your head! Get it through your head! Get it through your head! Your love is dead! Your love is dead! Your love is dead!"

Maybe I could admit that I am so full of shit and what I really want is that white picket fence. It's what my body was built for, what I thought that I had. And maybe I've seen too many movies, but I just can't forget how the idea used to move me, how it would fill up my chest. I've got to take it apart for myself, because I know I'll never be happy if I am waiting for somebody else to come along and complete me.

She was a song in my memory that I forgot how to sing when I wrote it down. Now it's every lyric escapes me and I don't think it'll ever come back to me now. I don't think she'll ever come back to me.