Looker

We walked next to a street full of speeding cars

We walked like they had stolen ours

The pace-car made for what was a hurried hour

You picked at love-me-not flowers

And i hope the worst ones come true

I hope i don't think the way that their screen taught me to

I know the low sound of a steady voice

'if you love something you'd better profit'

And you wear a guard like your guard against a lie

The lie that told you to speak quiet

As something to look at on a screen

I hope you don't look at all pretty to me

Painted a word on the side of your shirt

You can't be all they're defining

And i remain lost in my father's exhaust

And you can't just be a name to find

And in time, find us stuck

To all those terms made up

Like a picture to hang on the wall

Adolescent bedroom wall

On the wall