I think every dog’ll have its day
White chalk crime scene with the tape
Think I tipped the balance of the weight
Drew blood from a needle in the hay
Pushing up the screen into my face
Pull me off like it’s a pin of a grenade
Flipping out and now there’s metal in your brain
Total waste… stay away
Someone found another body in the park
They caught me picking out the ammo from its arm
Pour out gasoline, I’m watering the plants
Turn them into ash inside a jar
Parents fretting, I’m just sitting in the dark
Broke into my room and stripped my PC for its parts
Scream out deafening, I’m shattering the glass
They’re splitting up the cattle from the calf
Staring at my screen, mouth agape
With a crooked neck
Try to pry me off, sellotaped
To my wooden desk
Armistice — I’m always busy mourning all the time I spent
Around my family when I could be on my PC instead
There’s a scene outside I never show up or engage with
I’ll never come out to your show or let my finger strain a bit
By lifting it I’m wasting milliseconds I could spend decaying
All the greyest matter hidden in my ugly cranium
I think every dog’ll have its day…
We got a PC in the house when I was eight or maybe nine
I couldn’t look away like a mosquito to a light
I was fried, mechanisms in my noggin crossed wires
They deformed around the screen like a tree around a bind
I was misaligned
Thistles on a vine
Now I sit inside
Little mind
Turned into a brick right in the nick of time
Crippled spine, backache got me feeling like a missile fired
Left my bike to rust inside the shed, you’d think I’m paralysed
You’d think paralysed
Sat here doing fuck all in my cave like I’m a stalagmite
Try to pry me off, I’m flipping out, I start to kick and cry
Screaming like a pig under the pressure of a kitchen knife
