"At the center of the earth,
In the parking lot,
Of the 7-11 where I was taught,
The motto was just a lie
And I could really care less
We are the stories and disciples of,
The Jesus Of Suburbia
Land of make believe,
And it don't believe in me,
Dearly beloved, are you listening?
I can't remember a word that you were saying,
Are we demented? Or am I disturbed?
The space that's in between insane and insecure
Oh therapy can you please fill the void?
Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?
Nobody's perfect and I stand accused,
For the lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse
This hurricane of fucking lies"
This is a story that involves my boss… I was told by the janitor that he was walking around and talking to himself the other morning… How fucked up is that?
Andrew
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