It depends who you ask
some people call me plainspoke
others call me gary
and some still are left with blank notes
because my name is tearing at the edges
urban dictionary says it's
an asshole with a vengeance
but I'm back in my home in my head with
my favorite kind of medicine,
kind of menacing
a condescending mess
it's bitter happy endings gone against the many
but I'm trying to send a message to my best friend of plenty
who's left with a pile of bills and paperwork
not a person, but my favorite word
I pay them first a visit to the hospital
where they been living searching for pots of gold
in which they piss in when it's cold
and all the polls are stuck to wishes
I got old

who am i and who do i want to be
where am i and when am i gonna see

divvy up the vestiges of all the things I've ever been
the nest it sits, empty with the next of kin
I gently, lent the lexicon
it sent me to another place
where no one ever met me
with my other face
I fetch the faith
then glue it, pasting
all the way
I've wasting all the weight
the worsted yarn is what it's weighed
its what I saw that's
wetter stayed
the weather stayed and made it's name
I don't do this fake
if it rains, it reigns
if it breaks, it brakes
all the same
I only chase the lonely
wait for home
but I don't know these

who am i and who do i want to be
where am i and when am i gonna see

these are giveaways
for the people they give away
adopted at any age
doesn't matter where they came from
if they came and if they change some
that's all that matters today
I handle it and it's my mandolin
that fades, candle-lit, pistol-whipped
by the kid he missed in his ish
his lines are ill
but repetitive

they kill nobody
but I bet you think it's funny
muster up the courage and cunning
better bit by the bunny
I'm running
never to stop it
ain't it lotty
press the play and pop shit
it's another topping that
don't stand a chance to hipping hopping
opportunities knocking
but who's me
that's talking moodily
unlocking moods and stocking brews
nobody's doodling
talking news
it's all the canoodling
I peruse the blues and find the blacks
a plus is all the slacks
are cut with care
but listen, they're
ticking, set aside the land, it's missing
the bomb is bigger than the band,
I band against the hansel, gretel and
handsome threats full of pretzels
pissing the petals of flowers away
that's hours a day

who am i and who do i want to be
where am i and when am i gonna see

they ask me to breathe
but I can't find my breath
I can't conclude if it's the rest
or if it's all I've got left
if it's a test
and I've been leaving since I could step
'because I believe in
what's ahead
if I'm confined to the feeling that I've been fine
I'm dead
I'm a mime of a mime
a copy of a copy of a mind that's been read
you can mine it but the gold's been bled
I've been running the other way since
nobody told me otherwise
the way is thin
but nobody told me you can cut through the lines
hey!
two-ply is never enough for a man
who's real life is paper-mache
stuffed with a face of a page
I'm double or nothing they say
but I don't know what they say
'cuz I don't listen, I only talk

who am i and who do i want to be
where am i and when am i gonna see