hey mr. heart, don’t you know, without the right food
to grow you won’t break the
soil come summer. from punk
house to punk house, it’s
always been somebody else’s
scene. i guess in the
spotlight. undress in the day
time. all my friends are
brilliant. it’s really them
you’re listening to. cover
torso, cover toes. bury the
mirror in dirty clothes and
at last it sings. something
new to believe. sexual
politics, no justice. just
rain, just words. just us. shouldn’t have to place
demands. help me ask and not
command. oh there we go again, so unsure about it.
who we are and where we’ve
been. this is the bad side of tenacity.