I Died In Texas

written oct. 12, 2004 sometimes its hard to be sure when you're so young.

Rain is uncovering my open mind
and my oversized lips are talking to my undersized eyes,
if only I could get through this some kind of jungle.
You want to make sure I'm six feet under and here I am
creeping up your spine; I don't give a shit about your money.
I have so many problems that my solutions are making fun of me.
At my little brown stand in the middle of the carosel
I can tell you your place in life but you'll end up asking for something different.
What can I do when I lick a drop inside of the top
of the roof of myself and it turns into a habitat for bad taste.
I plan to become the worst aspect of life,
and if you agree with a burning shrub
then you're best asset is a one way ticket out of here.
The hysteria is my favorite part of breaking down,
the night I gave myself to you is the last thing I don't regret,
and yet I find you to be less than enough.