Face To Face

I'm a don when it comes to respecting myself

I keep the dust off of each little thing on the shelf

I've got a seashell, plucked from the ocean too soon

I've got a wolf figurine, howling up at the moon

I've got a cactus, in a cup full of dirt

If I fuck with it too much, guaranteed I'll get hurt

It innocently has spines do you think that it knows

That it'll never be loved on or be held close

It doesn't matter, it's just a fucking plant right

Just give it some water and place it in the light

There's an instruction booklet that I received as a token

It's from the local garden center across the street that just opened

It's overpriced, but they sell all kinds of cactus stuff

Guess I never should have looked up cactuses last month

This cookie'll follow me till I'm in the grave

Or til my mic gets a kick out of something else that I say

I should really get to know me

There's a lot I have to say

That I don't have access to

If I were facing me

Would I know how to hear

Her words that are mine too

I hate you

I correct little things that don't need to be messed with

I let people walk all over me and say that I'm helping

Gotta stop listening to people who hurt my feelings

Doesn't matter if they're close to me or think that they're being

Nice? I think they're missing the meaning

When you hurt me all I think is that maybe you're not hearing

The voice inside of you that tells you right from wrong

That you and yourself maybe don't get along

I should really get to know me

There's a lot I have to say

That I don't have access to

If I were facing me

Would I know how to hear

Her words that are mine too

I hate you

Face to face, skin to skin

You should let me in

Face to face, skin to skin

I can't get in

Let's take a look at the lower level of the bookcase in the front

I've been meaning to get rid of all this shit for months

Been keeping tickets and trinkets only 'cause I don't want to give them up

Guess I'm grounded in my memories and don't want to be beamed up

Back to watching what I say and watching what I does

And turning on my tech, so I can feel the love

This morning on the radio I heard someone

Ask to play a song from 1991

But that ain't me

I look into the mirror and I turn into a savage

No one can be meaner to myself than me

It's better if it's clear, so I make sure that I have it

Dusted up and down once or twice a week

I wonder if I'm near to a way to break the habit

Of breaking my own heart so that when I bleed

I make it disappear with a little bit of magic -

I don't know the bloody mess of which you speak

Maybe it's not that cut and dry

Maybe I just like to overanalyze

This face is probably on my side

'Cause it's mine

'Cause it's mine