Lost in a Small Town

My feelings of being trapped in Moville while I'm used to being free.

I sit here on the swings
of the park that is the main attraction
in a small decent town of suburbs
a church on every corner.

But my mind is screaming
as my body feels the decay:
"Where is the excitement?
WHERE IS THE WEED?"

I watch the sun go down,
on another day here in nowhere.

God, to be free...

I'm known as the restless spirit
the one prone to vanishing
without a trace.

Yet I'm somehow expected to remain
in this tiny little town
of wholesome
mind-numbing
goodness.

I'm the bad track record
forced to sit
and play nice.

The gossip mill runs quick
the people are touchingly close
but I'm about to be ill
people are not my thing.

So all I want to do
is be free of this piece of land
so fondly called The Devil's Asshole.

I just want to be free of this fucking town.