who knew you could turn left on this road? who knew there 
was water back here all along? i've been here seventeen 
years i'm hoping you could prove me wrong stumbling upon 
such a clever scene you and your sister's secret 
language, between you and me, was a fresher breath of air 
than i felt on the bridge out there but beauty and poetry 
look suspect when churned out like so many sausages you 
had your eye on the prize the artistic life, scribbling 
lines you had to know that it was scrawl mastered 
cigarettes and alcohol but you still couldn't draw giving 
birth to little mice and rabbits when what you wanted was 
a child could you upbraid a boy for dreaming when he is 
so passionate? oh, why not be a procrastinating 
perfectionist and never let anyone peek when you don't do 
anything you can't mess anything up do i owe this to 
myself or do i owe it to my mom would you upbraid a girl 
for sleeping? that's when i do my best dreaming do the 
ones who end up famous make time for staring at the wall? 
would you upbraid a girl for sleeping?it's usually not my 
fault