Is that a strain    Or a delicate smile    Built to proportion?    It might as well have been you    And all the things you do    Somedays    I'm waiting    For my pulse to calm down    Into the low hundreds    I shake the shirt loose off my back       Day and night, year in year out       I discovered my sweet dreams    Of corruption deep inside myself    I should have stood in carny    Or end up preserved upon your shelf       Day and night, year in year out       Will you ever understand    That I'm only an object    Day and night year in year out    I'm just trying to be the subject       Where others see the abstract    I only see the truth    And that has always been    To repeat my youth