wake up and waste a day   chase away   a day at a time   and waste away   clean-faced today   clean taste today   toothpaste makes my orange juice sour   waste an hour   or so   my shower is slow   the flowers that grow   outside of my window   are blooming   I'm assuming   that you're comin' over soon   it's almost half past four   and you called here at noon   'cause there's a picture that you wanna see   now I'm not even good at being me anymore.      She's got nicotine-basted lungs   wasted thumbs   and one of them asphalt tastin' tounges   she wakes up to her alarm   her make-up is still on   and she can't remember why she set the damn thing   her heart is a machine   art is meant to be seen   not felt   not heard   it's just paint   they're just words   and fingers are for feeling   fists are for beating   scabs are for healing   and blood is for bleeding   that's just how I used to be   but I'm not even good at being me anymore      I wake up and waste an hour   pace and glower   at the TV set wasting power   aching in my head   I'm banking in the red   and compulsively charging cd's to my account   so come out Virginia, don't make me wait   you Catholic girls start much too late   now it's too late in the day   for a matinee   and I ain't got the money to pay    for you anyway   what should I say?   I know it ain't how it used to be   but I'm not good at being me anymore.