smelly old apartment
and inhaling the dust
dwelling old project
and I'm sick to my stomach



no nothing is fair
and the morning is up
corny fucking stare
mourning widow here



my hair is gray
and my teeth yellow
the school is a taste
of dust in the face



the halls are the wall
of brick standing tall
of dreams fading off
and I'm bored already



the faces around me
Must look but wont
or the pressure of being
that is what's boiling



and illness brewing
I'm tired of sleep
it's mellow and weird
to be away from the wrench



you bought what's left
and god knows it not anything
worth having around
I'm cheaper than a dime



just about anything would do
smelly old clothes for me
another state of mind to
another life for you



not even company would be
nice and I don't care
pretty little flakes
of skin peeling of my head



will eyes just look
would hands just feel
the crack in our head
and he's real


exhaling the scent
of forgotten smells
exhaling the odour
of dust in this place



erasing the thoughts
of enjoying someone
and the mouth that
widens along with me