Zen and the Art of Something Clever

I embroider my name on the back of your neck to remind me that you're just a metaphor For my inner child
A symbol of who I was before

My fingers lock behind your waist and we dance ourself full of slumber
Our dreams are stickier than you taught me, but I was never one to follow

Wishful thinking and thoughts of wishing this was truth invade our private party
The Proper Noun Brigade arms itself with Pop Culture and annihilates me awake

Sometimes this happens every night
Sometimes the pencil is too heavy
Sometimes it's best to just hurl the pencil and shake the keys



Credits
Writer(s): Grahm Eberhardt
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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