Lyrics
I'm still too uptight, to hold your head responsibly.
The shit I've learned to hide, has crept inside and learned to cripple me.
I'm pregnant with the stench of my apologies.
The little things get big,
You feed him right, the kid grows long and taught and wiry,
He grabs the stool beside me,
And we laugh the drunken revelry of the next self-helpless group.
Twelve steps from the bar to the stoop,
To your front door, locked tight again.
Eventually, you'll let me in to see the idiot exposed,
Full blown and swaying in the glare of your dad's new track lighting.
And the idiot sways inviting.
The idiot sways, and a fly on the wall would fly away,
A little too bored with the little we say
When we're faced with the closing speeches,
Bite your tongue, speak your pieces.
I'm just a child, I am certainly subservient.
I'm just a child, I am certainly self serving.
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