on a cobweb afternoon
in a room full of emptiness
by a freeway i confess
i was lost in the pages
of a book full of death
reading how we'll die alone
and if we're good we'll lay to rest
anywhere we want to go

i stare at the blackboard, but i don't take notes. i run through my life, looking for things to complain about. i have decided that i am unable to be content. everything is well...but not. i am not a good man; keep an eye on me.

no one would notice if i walked into a room.

no one would notice if i didn't.