Empiricist

I guess when i've grown up came soon
Time hangs like plants in my living room
Breathing sun and toxic fumes
Smells of weak perfume
Draped over pictures of you
Magazines cut up around my feet to say

"yeah i guess you're still an artist
Remember when it all had really started?
All those poems broken hearted
Showing yourself just how guarded you were?"

You thought that you drank deep
But you sucked dregs between their legs

Something is different now
You lost what you had found
You smooth the map under your fist
Homesick empiricist
You're pinched nerves
Swerved and hit the ditch
Why do you exist
You're not proud of this
Безформна сутність

Child of privilige
Is it too late to say what you meant?

You wanted my thoughts
Well here they are
You pay me to say this
So i'll keep it honest

It's harder than ever
To keep it together
When everyone's better
At playing the part

I am not me
I am all these things
I've said and done, so

So

I am not me
I am all these things
I've said and done, so

So what?