I can crawl in this bottle and sail away, but I'm sure I'll end up shipwrecked in the same place

With this compulsion to scribble my theories and obsession with the passing of time

As well as the irony in the changes in our faces

The confusion sets in right around then

If you truly love something

Saw its legs off, see how far it can crawl

Then stomp on its hands

Stomp on its hands

Until then you'll find me where the bitter bums go to bullshit themselves to death

So many unfinished conversations, so much useless garbage in my head

I've lost more to this than I care to admit

If you truly love something

Saw its legs off, see how far it can crawl

Then stomp on its hands man

I tried to be like everyone else, I tried to have what they had

I couldn't have it so I set fire to it

I set fire to it and I stood close enough

The flames could lick my face and managed to feel not even a second of warmth