I'm sorry about your holes
you know I have mine too
in my shirt and in the bottom of my shoes
I'm sorry about your heartache
I know it's vestigial, residual
mine is too
I never could figure out how I felt or get myself to think about
finishing for that matter
so here's page 11 of my life
you're cutting all your hair off
you're cutting everyone off
just trying to be something you can crawl into and hide
you're fighting all your demons
you're donating your organs
everyday is just a day that you're not dead
Please tell me what's in your head
when you close your eyes you see something
and it's not me
I'm sorry about your holes
you know I have mine too
in my shirt and the bottom of the soles of my shoes
I'm sorry about your headache
I know it's vestigial, residual
I never could figure out how I felt
or get myself to think about
finishing for that matter
so here's page 11 of my story
of my fucking diary
you're pulling your brains out
you're cutting off your limbs
you're trying to crawl into something you can

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