It's crazy, isn't it? How much they call you crazy And it may be figurative It's just they called my mother crazy
It just rolls off the tongue When you swear that you don't even mean it as an insult You can go where you want And I can't
It's got to the point where I'm not destroyed At least not quite like I used to be It hits me in waves, and it spits in my face And I'll say thank you and go back to sleep
And you ask me how I always do that I said I guess I've always had to practice But if I can only go and do that Without placing my body on the mattress
Post-modern art, Kaiser hospital, parking lot Rose, corner-shot, on a Tv that no one saw
And you ask me how I always do that I said I guess I've always had to practice But if I can only go and do that Without placing my body on the mattress