Written in Oct. 2005, part self-reflection, part unserious social commentary.
lyrics
I don’t think, I obsess
And I’m bored a lot, I guess
And I search for things to suck me in
Escape is where you find it
I ignore, I don’t believe
And my heart is off my sleeve
And my younger days are over now
And relief is where you find it
And I reach inside for power now
For release and ways to bind it
I’m alone with myself
I’m deceased as someone else
And my enemies confront me now
In the keep of my defiance
I’m at war with myself
Though at least I’ve got my health
And my ending with be fabulous
At least in terms of finance
When I’ve sold my all to gradual
Decease, my grief, a line-dance
A thief, a chief, a mind dance
Computations make me sad
When I form a little thought and it rolls over
And it bothers me a tad
To waste my vast resources, my energy and time
On a reasonable skin glossed on a patent life of crime
I’m aware, I’m awake
And I am the mess I make
And the envy of the mad and dead
And I do my best to see it
I remember every word I said
Though my life did not decree it
And I won’t give up hope
Though I often don’t believe it
credits
from Mark Lint's Dry Folk,
released December 18, 2018
Mark: vocal, nylon-string guitar, electric bass, additional percussion
Rei Tangko: keyboard with "purple child" organ sound
Jim Turk: djembe, shaker
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