so it’s not loaded stadiums or ballparks
and we’re not kids on swingsets on the blacktop
and i thought at fifteen that i’d have it down by sixteen
and twenty-four keeps breathing in my face
like a mad whore
and twenty-four keeps pounding at my door
like a friend you don’t want to see
oldness comes with a smile
to every love given child
oldness comes to rile
the youth who dream suicide

where have all the people gone in my life
i’m looking at the ceiling
with an awful feeling of loss
and loneliness
the after late night television pain
i’m running out of strength

and it feels so wonderful
to swim in our fear
and it’s unacceptable
the awakening of life

oh, uncle joe
could you tell me what you know?
i’ve been having mental problems
and the solution is unclear
i’ll give anything a try once
i’ll try anything three times
i don’t care

but there’s no company
that i can stand to be with me
so my dependency on you grows
and i am not very well read
and did you say that i will lose my house
and can you spare me of my pain
and can you spare me of my tears

oh, uncle joe

it was unintentional
when i spit in your beer
i am overinfluenced
by movies

let’s all go to the pier tomorrow
the darkest pool
did you know lies below the sky

that sound coming from those holes
a voice that soars
and takes my wounds with it
to levels unknown
if only you could take me out
instead of back in
to a relationship i don’t understand
if only you could take me out
instead of back in
to myself that’s dying within

your soul pours out of those holes
music of this crazy time
when your car crashed
did your ghost find peace
and together entwine?

if only you could take me out
instead of back in
to a relationship i don’t understand
if only you could take me out
instead of back in
to myself that’s dying within

some escape some door to open
this path seems the blackest but i
guess it’s the soonest
but there in the clearing i
know you’ll be wearing
your young aching smile and
waving your hand
can’t go with my heart when i
can’t feel what’s in it i
thought you’d come over
but for some reason you didn’t
glass on the pavement under my shoe
without you is all my life amounts to

a final sleep no
words from my cutting
mouth to your ear or
taut wicked pinches
from my fingers to your bitter face
that i can’t heal
i know tomorrow
you will be
somewhere in london
living with someone
you’ve got some kind of family
there to turn to
and that’s more than i could ever give you

a chance for calm
a hope for freedom
outlet from my cold solitary kingdom
by the forest of our spring stay
where you walked away
and left a bleeding part of me
empty and bothered
watching the water
quiet in the corner
numb and falling through
without you what does my life amount to?