breaking out / pieces / missing you

i take down another shot

then i swirl it around

wish i's anywhere else

'sides this tiny yellow town


you and me we're on the rocks

but i still move you around

takes a lot to make a little when

your checkbook's in the lost and found


poverty, low class, that's what i'm havin'

take a good hard look at fame

hand me that blind fold i think i'm ready

for a blind leap out of faith


picture me inside a window

on a shiny private plane

take that journey to the middle of

the games we said we'd never play


there's no mystery in your manners

but you're no less than a fox

wish i had another quarter i'd

play "hearbreaker" on the jukebox


breakin out im breakin out

breakin out of the mold

i was supposed to stay in

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all about me lay the pieces of what could be, and what already is has lost it's immediate interest. this death and birth of my thought, it's a vehicle of hope more than despair. the fact that i can go on like this, free of the unnecessary bonds of rigid self analysis, is one that should be comforting, but i feel no more enlightened or balanced than i ought to. i choose to recognize what stands out in my day to day life as curious and new; foreign almost. i take that old face or that familiar wellspring of emotion and i examine it as if for the first time. i try to push that nightmarish fear of the certain and worn out world i thought i knew down, down deep in the pit of my stomach, and cling to the hope of a rebirth. to hold nostalgia's hand and to dream of an all too bright past is no longer possible when viewing this life as a timeless journey ever towards awe.

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i look in the mirror and see a new face

one that you've never seen before

yes, it's me inside the present plane

you can't know me anymore than yourself


stirring up the future for a new batch

of separation from your short sight

heat and time will do the trick

seer the welcome in my warning signs


can't stop talking to strangers

like you used to

can't quit tipping off the angels

for a bit of change

keep on looking at the scenes here

wishing you could rearrange your life to be here

down on myself

I guess I got off way too late
but the trains are regular so I’ll wait
the highway’s blowing by
ooo, when it’s dead will the cold air still blow in straight lines

call it what you will my luck
I’ve got a hold of the sunshine feeling

oh my, oh no, I keep getting down on my self
oh no, oh my, you can’t even begin to help

the wind brought us here out of reach
far below the trees and down by the beach
my mind is running wild
oh, will you leave when the tide puts out my tongue of fire

I want to make it out I’m stuck
I am a sucker for the weekend sadness

oh my, oh no, I keep getting down on my self
oh no, oh my, you can’t even begin to help