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lyrics

When you're sick of yourself, and nobody loves you
And nobody learns, and it doesn't matter anyway
A freak of remorse, a monster of loving
You don't want to think, and it's not worth crying about

Sick, sickly voice, come heal me, baby
Nobody here but me and God (2nd time: the gods)
Obvious boy can't feel me lately
Castigate him with a gentle prod

Feeling sorry for hurting yourself
No one to dump on and no safety net
Was this just pisspoor planning
Or an endless repeat of a scene that you can't forget?

A chunk of divorce
A bored pack of brooding
It seems useless to think
And your head hurts too much anyway

Sick,sickly voice, go jump it baby
Nobody likes you, can't you tell
Obvious boy will pass this shortly
Mock him now to make him well

credits

from So Whaddaya Think?, released November 14, 2002

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Mark Lint Madison, Wisconsin

Catchy, homespun tunes ranging in style from power pop to folk ballads to alt country, laced with a sense of the absurd.

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