In a tiny model house there is a tiny model dog with no tiny model owner to fill his bowl
Because the tiny model man went off to find a tiny model wife and left his poor forgotten puppy all alone
And the tiny model dog lets out a weak and desperate cry cause it’s been several model years and his owner isn’t home

A couple miles down there lives a tiny model man with his happy model bride in their new home
And this tiny model man is happy with his model life and their big blue backyard made of foam
But sometimes this tiny man makes a tiny frown because he wonders how his puppy dog has grown

I’m not that interesting (but I try to be)
I have pages full of violent imagery
Hide metaphors with no real meaning
It’s really all just boring poetry

About self-deprecation
Or ego inflation
Occasionally intellectual masturbation
And rhymes so forced you’d swear I’m not even trying

But I’m just dying

A busted septic tank
My what a mess we make
By the time I notice it’s far too late
Become a stagnant pond below me

Why do I say it’s still too good for me?
Why do I say I don’t believe in me?
Or why do I say I don’t deserve to be

Happy

Or sad or really anything?
Emotions reserved for human beings

I’m alive but I’m static. I’m down on my luck and I’m forming a habit. I realize that I am becoming an addict, but I don’t care, because as long as I have a breath of air, and the wind is blowing in my hair, the world can leave me behind. Grab the remote and fast rewind-back to a time when life was an adventure, not this lonely heartbreak picture. I think that growing up is tragic, so I’m alive but I’m static.

Somebody made a full of themselves, like there’s a miniature version of a court jester dancing around on their shoulders, directing them what to do. The angel and devil naturally objected, but the court jester embarassed them as well. Sometimes they come out to try to get a word in edgewise, but the jester just shows them the pictures he made of them in drag (they are very believable photoshop jobs, i commend the jester on his digital manipulation ability, especially since he hails from the dark ages).

This all seems weird but unnaturally the jester has a fear of cheap liqour (cheap liqour killed his parents, it’s a very sad story don’t ask him to tell it). One day he and the other shoulder jesters were at a social gathering and someone was drinking cheap liqour and the jester smashed the bottle and murdered everybody. Naturally, the line at the shoulder habitants temp agency was cleared in a HURRY. More on this later.

There’s metal in the window
Gray and dull
There’s metal in the window
Hello?
There’s somebody inside it
Help them they’re stuck
Everybody runs away from
Empty but not

Someday we will watch a movie together.

I’ll teach you how

goodnight

i haves sought to find inside me

something that gives my life meaning

i’m still looking

i’m still looking

would you maybe like to help me?

you can try

but please don’t lie

’cause i know when you’re lying

look at my eyes

and you’ll see inside

that i’m am dying

i’m welcoming you to the show, where i’ll play for you a little song. it’s about what i will always hate, and always forced to get along. my words, my mind, my soul, my heart, my voice, my hair my eyes.

tell me now will you decide

to listen close or go outside

have a cigarrette or take a piss

or do you not want to miss

watching me stumble over the strings

and sing about

these meaningless things

go then, i don’t mind, you’re not missing much

I just wish i could capture

and hush

My name is Hello
My friends call me Hi
I bring people closer
And hold back goodbye
Today I will tell you
The secret of life
But you should be careful
‘Cause sometimes I lie
I’m always laid back
When I’m thrown through the fire
‘Cause there’s comfort to me
Knowing that you desire
Hearing my name
When you’re walking by
My name, it’s Hello
You can call me Hi