People Made of Popsicle Sticks
i’m the condensation on the edge of the glass
and i’m slipping lower with the weight of the sweat
are we all just lightning in the sand?
i never expected you to understand
my stomach is turning
my eyes are burning
my shell is breaking
my whole body’s aching
if this was all pointless than why
were we all communicating
what with all of the fornicating
and the urge to keep mating
breaking nature, controlling each other
i’m the condensation on the edge of the glass
and i’m slipping lower with the weight of the sweat
are we all just lightning in the sand?
i never expected you to understand
and no shit, the mud is sloppy
the tar is pulling everything in
if it was simple it would have never happened
