Lyrics

Things left to be dreamt Envision purpose that I never meant Plans problicate Dreams you'll never see I feel them divide Into fluids to hold my open stare in place And maybe let it stew or set in this jar Or on my neck or to collect dust in the attic I'm feeling more depressed than I did the other day Shell out the compliments man Or spread them over the entire tiering cake Or do me the favor of sparing me of my own private pyrite pity party Cause this bed pan produces only what smells of mommy's little rotting vegetable Cage yourself in To make you feel at home Your home is where your head is K?