I'm the hardest working man in the universe
Burn me I'm a liar
‍
If I die here I'll kill myself
I know I can grow myself
But the bedding is so tempting
I wish I could be anybody outside myself
I can't help but know myself
Pillow said my head so heavy
I try to move myself
My waste hurts it
My mind is verse me
‍
If only I could live my whole life like that one week I got so much done
If only the late night bursts of motivation lasted through the next day
But the bedding is so tempting
‍
I gotta go get it
But the bedding is so tempting
I'm so timid
War and peace underneath the linen

I can't keep living in ifs
I can't stay on my back forever
My back is pulled to the floor
I can't leave the sail boat in my driveway
As I lay my life seeps between the floor boards
‍
I gotta go get it
But the bedding is so tempting
I'm so timid
War and peace underneath the linen
‍
I can't keep laying down
‍
I'm the hardest working man in the universe
Burn me I'm a liar
All I am is tired
Wish i's never hired
After work all I want to feel is the cold comfort of my bed
I don't like feel fire

I see them as they stare through me
Ears ringing
Back tingling
Scalp itching
‍
I finally saw them
Two ideas reached down
These outstretched arms are fleeting
I can feed them
I can swallow what they hold
I made a plan then
My self heated to red
I thought they'd never see me
‍
Two ideas hugged their greetings
A bright darkness
A light whisper
‍
Tossed and turned couldn't sleep last night
Woke up this morning with a new state of mind
Keeping my face toward the rising sun

A bright darkness
A light whisper
Lift your head up are you scared
A light whisper
A gravestone is a headboard too
A dried shell on a cold floor
Lift up your head

From the state they never mention
Midwestern state of mind trapped in apprehension
I'll just lie here for a minute sheets threaded with fiction
For now the goat eats where it's tethered
Ate sleep for dinner
Breakfast in bed a plate filled with nethin
‍
Locked in my room like Emily Dickinson
Notes pile up under my door blocked the light from the slit
The curtains hide the day
Staring at the ghost white ceilin
I smell all the meals I'm missin
‍
The rusty truck bed wrapped in roots
The sparks land on foot burned a hole in my shoe
The cutoff wheel left my hand cold
My tasks bend me folded
I quit I wanted to told him
Slept my way home
I don't know but I'm sure I was on the bus snorin
I can't dream of flying I'm sore
Clocked in the next mornin

I don't pucker I don't get in line
Imma take no more askin
I finally told myself I had to go
I finally told myself I had to see
I finally told myself I had to know
I finally told myself I had to be