it's really getting hard to be this
sober all the time.
here there's not a moment's peace.
like stillness is a crime
some days just a noise could make me angry
with its constant imposing
a moment's silence is relief
but it doesn't even begin
to make up for the sound of phones closing

and half the things we said back there
didn't make much sense...
all riddles and illusions
but you knew just what i meant
sentences we made up
in a language i can't remember now.
and those forgotten dialects are just
water coming down
but when it rains on the midwest plains
sometimes it's easiest to drown

everyone's worried about themselves
don't give a shit about no one else
selfish selfish we'll never evolve
if we don't start listening
to those we love

nothing flows together
when every sound is amplified
but if the volume's always up
we can smother what's inside
the only time it's quiet
is the time when i'm asleep
they used to ask if i would live forever
in dreams, i say. in dreams.

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