A Line Allows Progress, A Circle Does Not

Sitting around, no work today.

Try pacing to keep awake.

Laying around, no school today.

Just drink until the clock has circled all the way.

It's late afternoon, as you walk through the rooms

of a house that is quiet

except for unanswered telephones.

You stand near the sink,

you mix up a drink.

You think you don't want to pass out

where your roommates could find you again.

Stumble 'round the neighboorhod, nothing to do.

You're always looking for something

to sniff smoke or swallow.

Calling over next door, see what they've got.

But you would settle for anything

that would make your brain slow down or

stop this circle of thoughts you chase

before they catch back up with you.

And your parents notice your thinning face,

All the weight you've lost,

All the weight youre losing.

You said "I'm done feeling like a skeleton,

no more sleep walking dead."

You're going to wake from this coma.

You're going to crawl from this bed you've made.

Stop counting on the camera

that hangs around your neck,

cause it will never remember what you choose to forget.

And you try to find one source of light,

try to name one thing you like.

You used to have such a longer list,

And light, you never had to look for it.

But now it's so easy, it's so easy to--

it's so easy, it's so easy to

second guess everything you do

until all you want, all you want is to

finish this half empty glass

before the ice all melts away.

This feeling always used to pass,

seems like it's every day

seems like it's every night now.