all the words in my mouth
that the scene deemed unworthy of letting out
banded together to form a makeshift militia
and burrowed bloodily through my tongue and my teeth
i stood proud in the gallery
with my open socket of a mouth for them to see
they all just laughed and said
"that boy he, that boy's got woe, woe
he lives with woe, woe"

and this girl who i met
whose pride makes her hard to forget
she took pity on me, horizontally
but most likely because of my band

and that's all i can get
when i'm lonely and these
visions of death seem to own me
in the quiet of the classrooms
all across the stacked united states of woe, woe
we live with woe

she said "i can't get laid in this town
without these pointy fucking shoes
my feet are so black and blue, and so are you"

please take me out of my body
up through the palm trees
to smell california in sweet hypocrisy
float in my senses, surround my body
i wake my nose to smell that ocean burn

so now i'm forging ahead
past all the plutocrats
who sold me out
go sob in your bed
if life is twice as pretty
once you're dead
then send me a card
i'm still the optimist, though it is hard
when all you want to be is in a dream