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it is my birthday
it is a new year
i should be happy
that i am still here
light up a new joint
put on an old shirt
try to remember
forget how my brain works

but i could read a book
a night before this year
i knew every word
their definitions clear
but now in stealth
i check thesaurus
it's become my guilty mistress

so i heave my breath at burning wax
cause i know that spark ain't coming back

it is my birthday
i've got all my friends here
they haven't been talking as of lately
they've all found new bro's and babies
i have smoked away my pride
there is nothing but the cinders of it inside
but i believed in more than nothingness last year
and under every quiet failure it's still here
buried breathing under 18 years
of tragedy and fear
if i could crawl my way out of this grave
just think of all the time i'd save

the stereo's playing the same old songs
but we still hum along

and in no time we'll be spread
across the earth
donning business suits to show
the faceless master what we're worth
from our huggies to armani
and it all seems so rehearsed

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