How long are you gonna drown around
And peel off all your scabs
And take your stitches out?
How long?
You show off your loss of blood
But everybody's got that too
All running down our shins, no one can do a thing for you
How long, how long…
Like a reckless child, rubbing dirt in his wounds
Steps away from front doors
And cleaner hands, warmer hands to soothe
Reeling back, peeling bandages again
But it all keeps coming off, like you forgot how to grow skin
And it when it does, it just sticks to the linen
So now you sleep by the creek
Imagined meals within your cheeks
It's a blanket pile of leaves and a tin can
A tin can to your pride
But there's a stamp on your bones
It says that you have a home
And it's your brilliant own