What I'm listening to right now: You may be dreaming You may be bleeding

[lectrobyte]

Vicky's Box by Throwing Muses

He
Won't ride in
Cars anymore
It reminds him of
Blowjobs
That he's a queer
And his hair
Stuck to the roof, over the wheel
Like a pigeon on a tire
Goes around
And circles over circles
And he's a queer
And his hair
On the roof
Like a pigeon
Goes around
Says he's a man
And his eyes
And his hair
And his eyes
Say he's a man
He won't ride anymore
He won't ride anymore
He won't ride anymore

Home is a rage
Feels like a cage
Home is what you read
How you breathe
Home is how you live
I feel boxed in
I feel boxed in
I feel boxed in
Think I'll be all right
Home is where the heart lies
The heart lies
The heart lies
Welcome home
Welcome home
Welcome home

My heart is a kind of poison(?)
I only love pieces of things that I hate
Like this box, this piece of roof
I can't grasp, can't see true
A piece of past
Days like today
Like a decade ago
Painful to remember like today

I've been here another year, another day
Ocean waving flies and a child
Girl you complain
To kiss the rotten broken knee

You may be dreaming
You may be bleeding
You may be in this box

A kitchen is a place where you prepare
And clean up
Clean up
Clean up
Clean up