Portable

There’s nothing here but graveyards, because there’s nothing else to do
Between the hospitals and bars but drink until they bury you
So i spend empty moments with all my vacant friends
And hope the means they’ve bottled bring a bottom and an end

“hey hey hey. you are dead weight and i need you to be portable
Hey hey hey. if i can’t take you for granted
I can’t take you anywhere at all.”

So i watch television, where at least the cases close
And live with indecision on any question that reality may pose
I pump my paycheck into my gas tank every week
Drive to cities i don’t know and sing so i don’t have to speak

“hey hey hey. you are dead weight and i need you to be portable. hey hey hey. if i can’t take you for granted, i can’t take you anywhere at all.”

Still i hold on tight to something pretty, but every night when i’ve got nothing left under her breath she says
The truth hurts less this way, i’m told, but it doesn’t change a thing when i sing to everyone i know: