Target

It's not hard to visualize

That person [they can really vaporize?].

With daily bread comes daily sacrifice.

And you're waiting for the lightning

From that silent violent sky,

And your feet are wet,

You cant forget:

You're a target, you're a target

You're a target.

It's not difficult to picture

Sudden long and lucky years.

The seaman's bones should hide

Some shaking nerves,

And leave you swinging at the mirror

With a pair of silver scissors

Swinging at the mirror with a pair of silver scissors.

Because it hurts to belong to a face long.

And I'm ugly. I'm ugly.

I'm ugly.

You can't remember why you ever

Put flowers between the pages of your favoirte books.

You don't read any more, so you know

They're gone for good.

And you might never really learn

The law of diminishing returns.

You're smart enough to spit up

something,

And it burns, and it burns.

And it burns.