fresh guilty skeleton confessions

i dont want anything to change
i just want everything to stay the same

i want to travel back in time
to the set of the pilot episode
of home improvement

i want to be married
to my own constipated sense
of self righteous indignation
on the same day
they finally bury
my fresh guilty skeletons
the disguise ive worn
on too many doorsteps
on too many halloweens

itll be a closed casket ceremony
my humility rotting away
inside of a costco coffin

but all things must come to pass
or something like that
ive never been much for mottos or mantras
but i feel a chant coming on

dear jesus
please believe us
we've done the best we can
and if you believe that
ive got some literature
you might be interested in

monday 11:24

i thought i was going to be sad forever
but since ive learned it isnt real
its become more of a pastime, really

on one hand, its freeing
to know that ones misery
is their own miserable responsibility
on the other hand
thats a lot of responsibility

i wish someone could make these decisions for me
but therein lies the problem

if i could only
if i were better
i could

ill do my best
but thats impossible, isnt it
laziness is the antithesis of love
they say
and i am a very lazy man
but thats hardly unique

theres another way to think
about everything
every situation
can be analyzed from a more comfortable position
just shift your weight
in such a way
that you feel
like yourself



i might have made a hell of a woman one day
but youre not supposed to say that sort of thing
out loud
or on paper
unless youre a scouting kind of girl
who sells the sweetest cookies
to the loneliest of men

i might have made a hell of a lumberjack
but with all these allergies
im better classified as more of an indoors kind of handyman
but with all this claustrophobia
its getting awfully difficult
to be agoraphobic these days

i might have made a hell of a man one day
i may still make something of myself
or i might shout at these yellow walls
i see in my peripheral vision
until my eyes bleed
and the yellow turns brown

i might pretend everybody hates me
its spring, so there are plenty of driveway worms

i might wish i were someone else
or ralph nader

i might have just heard gunshots outside of my apartment
but im from the suburbs
they were probably just fireworks

i might be the greatest thing that ever happened to my life
since my mom sliced me my first slice
of bread

or i might be the physical manifestation
of a buzzword
that didnt make any sense in the first place
and was probably misused, misheard
or misquoted
by some dork
named weric edgework


the old timers called it cabin fever

oh so smooth
pet the fur
feels like
it should have
super cool

i am calm!
im perfectly calm!
im perfectly perfect
having previously perfected the art
of perpetrating perfection
in all directions

you think you know me steve?
you dont know shit
you wouldnt know shit if you tasted it
you wouldnt know love
if it hit you on the back of the neck
and slid down the small of your back
into your sweats

i want to hold you so close
i want to put love into everything i do
i want a lot of things all at once
i do
and sometimes
it just
seem like
the right thing
to do
to you

ive only got a few more minutes left,
relatively speaking
and relatively speaking
its all relative

you know?
you dont?
or you do?
you do or you dont?

you are something
but not something else
thats a special label that i reserve
but relatively speaking, you are
so here we are
back at the start

i wonder whats on tv...

triangular hamster

i remember when all this horrible nastiness started
with an upset stomach
and a brown banana
a smartly pressed frock
and a neatly tied bandanna
an upside down pyramid
in which lies the hollowed out corpse
of hannah montana

organs neatly placed
in their correct places
organ transplants
now include faces

how about that?

we all do things we regret sometimes
dont we?
i do
im planning on it, actually

actually, im making plans
(unconciously maybe, but plans are plans)
to ingrain these bad habits
deeper and deeper
simply because
my fingernails feel
against these itchy red flakes

my temper tantrums
soothe my tender little diapered soul
and even though my mother
is miles away
from home
i scream at the top of my lungs
in the gentlest of ways

because im a gangsta
and i never had a shit to give
or a fuck to care about

naw im just playin