please keep my head below the clouds this time   or tear it from my spine   it's been few hours and a couple of days   since i began my slow and slippery phase   of listening without learning   and crashing without burning   i've got nothing left to show and tell   so it's time to lie and sell   after a few kisses and a couple of stitches   i made my home in a far away cave   full of coughing and dripping   and pouring and sipping   i havent yet found a kid thats quite like you   and i don't think i really want to   we've been sitting in the back of the car   for just about seven days so far   and you're not giving what i'm getting   and i'm shifting and sweating      i hate sick days   and i hate seeing   through all of my friends      oh what are my insentives   to speak   to my relatives      and i'm sorry   that i can't keep from having thoughts like those      but i'm still missing   just what i came here to see         theres a man pointing his revolver at me   and he's laughing and whistling but thinking,   "I Don't think i really deserve this life   i'm going home tonight to speak to my knife   and there isn't anything that seperates god from soil   when you're going in   you've been dead once and you'll die again"      you're missing a few teeth and you're taller than I   and you know it's easy to make me cry   and i'm breathing in violently   and you're kicking leaves in my direction   you've got a valid reason for every vain that you break   for every shot that you take   for every smile you fake   and there's a pistol in the dumpster, just lying around   just waiting to be found   to make its loud,   beautiful sound