I feel my feet getting static in the slush of a small town
I feel like a feral cat hissing at everyone I know
Watching my empty mood detour down through the door toward deranged
If you’re paying enough attention you can hear my voice change
And all the scars scurry like spiders from my armpits
They wrap around my shoulder ‘til my skin splits at their lines
And I feel like maybe I would be making more sense to you
If I had simply said that my scars they spread like vines

If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony
Three stories above the place where I will learn to rot
If i don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony
Three stories before the one that finally has a plot

I feel everything but an image that’s inspiring
I smell everything but the variety of cigarettes stained to my clothes
I feel already dead or else god damned and dying
It feels like life is slowly pulling the crusting nails from all my toes
Insert a page into the folder that they keep at my psychologist
It says the patient is probably full of violent thoughts
Maybe you will find me in five years when I think POTUS is out to get me
And you’ll rubberneck and laugh and call the cops

If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony
Three stories above the place where I will learn to rot
If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony
Three stories before the one that finally has a plot

Psychosocial failures over some psychosis
My cycle of sick seasons never cease
When I was six years old I said I’d be just like my brother
Before I showed the symptoms of my brothers disease

If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony
Three stories above the place where I will learn to rot
If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony
Three stories before the one that finally has a plot