A shell so shocked I can barely walk around
The blood red tape and model squares you imitate

I can do neither harm nor good
If looks can kill I will lie here perfectly still
Maybe I can blend in with the crowd
In the thrill of getting nowhere
We have some tedious forms for you to sign

I'm quite uptight and tethered to the rails
Emboldened by a bitter wind in brittle sails

If looks can kill...

Get back, get back man
To where we could have been well that's
Nursing foolish hopes on spoiled milk

In the thrill of getting nowhere
I'm harvesting my gray hairs
And peddling them for bus fares
But they have some tedious forms for me to sign

And I can do neither harm nor good

© 2005 Jonathan Ericson. All Rights Reserved.