Quite - Careful
It isn't safe
But it's not sorry
The gas is growing crystals in the lungs
It isn't bad
It's not perfect
Maybe is this just a trial run
This my house
Do I own free weights
I am a f**king man
My chromosome's a forked tongue
It's my garage
It's my gas my car
My time and my enclosure
Don't be last
And don't be lonely
See a special kind of timing in the leap
Don't be cruel
Be annoying
Don't sell yourself short
This my ring
I must have four kids
The dimpled plastic roof
Is not quite yellow
These my hands
They look like trees choked out by vines
This my breath
It's more like gun smoke
Two fingers pulling greasily at chicken
That the sun
It looks too sharp and clean
A bubble filling endlessly with air
This my friend
It feels to forced for that
It's wrong
But it's not quite right
Now living feels like
Whispering at night
I have a couch
I have a TV now
