Unemployed
Hook me up to an IV filled with a future.
Mine bled out on the side of highway 163.
My career was amputated, but still I feel the phantom limbs.
I free-fall into a narcotic haze: my pillow.
Isn’t there a pill for this?
Please, please don’t leave me stripped without my working skin.
My insides are empty. EMPTY I SAY!
I scream with no voice.
How then do I explain it to all the well-meaning masses who
offer up their impotent platitudes and prayers? Yes, God, I think their prayers are feeble.
Here I am two years down the road yet still lying broken, screaming, and
bleeding out my future into the red dirt of Monument Valley.
Mine bled out on the side of highway 163.
My career was amputated, but still I feel the phantom limbs.
I free-fall into a narcotic haze: my pillow.
Isn’t there a pill for this?
Please, please don’t leave me stripped without my working skin.
My insides are empty. EMPTY I SAY!
I scream with no voice.
How then do I explain it to all the well-meaning masses who
offer up their impotent platitudes and prayers? Yes, God, I think their prayers are feeble.
Here I am two years down the road yet still lying broken, screaming, and
bleeding out my future into the red dirt of Monument Valley.
