thinking maybe 1,2,3 turn the cold water down

Is this what we do now,

Sit and stare and grow old forgetting?

I can feel the lines on my face each time

you close your eyes and say

you're tired...the world outside

is blasting colors at our windows

but we are here wanting to grow up

wanting to die

I don't get it

sleeping soundly for anther day

so what? the sun comes up and 

we can see and superman gains the 

ability to fly, he's younger than we are at

75, he may last forever on the page...the guy against

the window tries to help me, I'm telling

the teller-ticket-taker someone left a phone,

I give it to her knowing she's just gonna

sell the fucking thing, but there's nothing I 

can do, I could take it, steal it, destroy it

I don't get it,

what do they want leaving things on the seats?

herded out of buses, the wrong buses,

idiot buses, he's got thick glasses/Obama beret,

I die each time I see that

Days Inn, with the no cars

and pretend continental breakfast savior...

when am I going to blow it up?

I dunno, I'd like to soon, but there's no 

explosives left in a dying world,

just us, frown on our faces in the shower

leaning against the tiles afraid to pee,

thinking, ah the hell with it, then taking a

breath and starting all over again