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lyrics

every poster i hung up in my room is piled next to my bed. i'll rip off all the sheets real soon. i won't have a place to rest my head. it's a strange type of clutter, stumbling over cardboard boxes. let it come up to my gills. i'll swan dive right into the leaves i'm never raking. a dog with its tail between its legs needs a home to scamper back to. there are no rocks to crawl under; no spider holes to seek refuge. how many will you swallow in your sleep tonight. i hope they don't creep into your dreams. eight legs crawling into bed. eight eyes just trying to find sleep. so train your throat to scream at the storms.

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a bathtile green Black Mountain, North Carolina

songs about nothing

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