Half beat, half jacked
Two trains and a bus
Knowing that the night is young
And I am still wet behind the ears
And in the small of my backpack
Down frangipani lane
Walkman and earbuds
When music still hurt
Hourly Daily and the John Reed Club
I make a heavy sketch
Of a thinking man
Without a clue as to how much
Or little I already know
Or how often I'm going to blow it
Skipping down frangipani lane
Listening to all that will become
When the music stops hurting
Where you been and the big heavy stuff
It was all the right feelings
Pointed at the wrong girl
In love with my own future
Without a shadow of a doubt
In the morning light
With a heavy set dew
I walk alone with my cold sweat
But I'm not really heartbroken
But I'm sure practicing to be
Those trampled frangipani leaves
Losing myself again
In the canon of the future
Experimental, Jetset, Trash and the Clouds
It was all the right feelings
Pointed at the wrong girl
In love with my own shadow
With all my future of doubts
Small sweet flowers
And wrecking ball beats
Weak winter sun
Swollen glands all mixed up heat
I think I'm done l think I'm dumb
