Is that a strain

Or a delicate smile

Built to proportion?

It might as well have been you

And all the things you do

Somedays

I'm waiting

For my pulse to calm down

Into the low hundreds

I shake the shirt loose off my back



Day and night, year in year out



I discovered my sweet dreams

Of corruption deep inside myself

I should have stood in carny

Or end up preserved upon your shelf



Day and night, year in year out



Will you ever understand

That I'm only an object

Day and night year in year out

I'm just trying to be the subject



Where others see the abstract

I only see the truth

And that has always been

To repeat my youth