everyone looks angry today
i'm grey so grey and so are you
i'm ash i'm trash you're flying high
yea; i'm dead and dying all stained red
yea; but my baby said
"you know i love you"
and the words tasted like limes on
my teeth. she said
"you've been disintegrating from the start"
so i told my boss i was sand
took the whole year off.
still i can't find the reason
some people look happy in the winter
and other have purple bruises
under their eyes, yea;
the leather in my body is drying, yea;
there's rock salt in my soul so i
put a red jacket on and asked
how people can smile
when we're all so sad