Old Armor
Lyrics/Performed by Dylan Owen
Produced by Nicolas Marchese
Unreleased.
Inspired by strangers and traveling. And songs about traveling.
I ripped the calendar down, I started settling.
I made it home to my small town development.
After walking past the picket fence and telling em
That I found some things out on my own
And I wrote it on a bathroom stall door in Pennsylvania to forget it
Yo but somehow just writing it down made me remember that
My heart is as big as elephant knocking at your door
But I don’t knock there anymore, shit.
So that’s irrelevant, I’m constantly in re-verse
I’ve been around the block so many times that my feet hurt
The stories underneath our sneakers teach me new words
Like Austin from Newburgh reminding me to Do Work
I read it in graffiti on a Newark bridge
That the infinite abyss of Garden State is just a myth
But that don’t make it dumber, I still loved it in the summer
Yeah I’ve loved the drive-in movies since last summer
I don’t need a map to know my way around
I’ve been traveling too long to lie and say I’ve found nothing
I’ll take the path that’s still been buried in the ground
I wear my past on my sleeve and my heart like a crown.
I ripped the calendar down, I started settling.
I took a picture of my small town, developed it
And, I just admired all the little things’ elegance:
The cracks in their sidewalks and stones. And I found it on a
Rhode Island balcony window when I was venting
All your 7th grade betterment of anti-depressants
Really didn’t make me better at all, so keep your medicines.
I’ll keep my DJ, don’t insult my intelligence.
We saw Bob Dylan after months of hard rain
We tried to stay friends saying, “Those were our days”
It was 2:07 in the morning watching cars race
Everybody’s got something that’s hard for them to chase
Maybe I do think way too much of Colorado
Springs from my heart some kind of fate I can’t follow
Like how the cigars and novels of South Harwich Port passed
But I don’t need y’all to tell me that.
And I don’t need a map to know my way around
I’ve been traveling too long to lie and say I’ve found nothing
I’ll take the path that’s still been buried in the ground
I wear my past on my sleeve and my heart like a crown.
Produced by Nicolas Marchese
Unreleased.
Inspired by strangers and traveling. And songs about traveling.
I ripped the calendar down, I started settling.
I made it home to my small town development.
After walking past the picket fence and telling em
That I found some things out on my own
And I wrote it on a bathroom stall door in Pennsylvania to forget it
Yo but somehow just writing it down made me remember that
My heart is as big as elephant knocking at your door
But I don’t knock there anymore, shit.
So that’s irrelevant, I’m constantly in re-verse
I’ve been around the block so many times that my feet hurt
The stories underneath our sneakers teach me new words
Like Austin from Newburgh reminding me to Do Work
I read it in graffiti on a Newark bridge
That the infinite abyss of Garden State is just a myth
But that don’t make it dumber, I still loved it in the summer
Yeah I’ve loved the drive-in movies since last summer
I don’t need a map to know my way around
I’ve been traveling too long to lie and say I’ve found nothing
I’ll take the path that’s still been buried in the ground
I wear my past on my sleeve and my heart like a crown.
I ripped the calendar down, I started settling.
I took a picture of my small town, developed it
And, I just admired all the little things’ elegance:
The cracks in their sidewalks and stones. And I found it on a
Rhode Island balcony window when I was venting
All your 7th grade betterment of anti-depressants
Really didn’t make me better at all, so keep your medicines.
I’ll keep my DJ, don’t insult my intelligence.
We saw Bob Dylan after months of hard rain
We tried to stay friends saying, “Those were our days”
It was 2:07 in the morning watching cars race
Everybody’s got something that’s hard for them to chase
Maybe I do think way too much of Colorado
Springs from my heart some kind of fate I can’t follow
Like how the cigars and novels of South Harwich Port passed
But I don’t need y’all to tell me that.
And I don’t need a map to know my way around
I’ve been traveling too long to lie and say I’ve found nothing
I’ll take the path that’s still been buried in the ground
I wear my past on my sleeve and my heart like a crown.
How To Stay Young
Lyrics/Performed by Dylan Owen
Produced by Devin Arne
Released on How To Stay Young EP, 2009
Inspired by summer nights and aspirations, and The KROO
Even if I got a penny for my thoughts,
I’d still be a broke kid who never left the porch.
I miss the memories I haven’t had yet
And I missed the bus again I gotta make that long-ass walk
Where the blue and yellow sunrise reminds me of the bruise below my left eye
From the rap battle last Friday.
But who can tell me I’m not as real as I talk?
I’ve got a hand full of style and some sidewalk chalk.
I’mma get out this small town before my hands wrinkle.
Lately I’ve been dreaming more than Rip Van Winkle.
I’m a simple man, damn, mad symbols in her words
Make me feel like we’re freshmen again in the woods chillin.
Or on the roof where we’d listen to the birds
And I learned we all change like a stripper after work
So I gotta keep going till my knees break.
Man I’ve got a plan to stay young until the scar on my cheek fades.
Chorus
I try to make a scene, like an ocean or a sunset
But I just make believe, there are things that haven’t come yet
My mind’s running speeds, I've never even heard of
This is how you stay young: you laugh and you murder
And you never look back and you only look further
Than you’ve been. If you’ve been down, we’ve all been down and burning
But, if you’re growing old you better re-think it
I’mma end this story back at the beginning.
Here’s my advice. Promise more than doubt.
Like the time we spent the day in town locked out of your father’s house
And followed all the cars speeding down 207
Crossed the bridge to Terabithia around eleven
Said my feet were cold, stepping on the train tracks
Looking for a way back home, to hit that party in my cul-de-sac
'Cause in the summer free teenage spirits
Spit G like a kid with a stutter saying, “G-g-g-get out!”
I’mma light up the track, can you hear it?
Spending more time with that than you do in front your mirror
Getting pretty for some jock who thinks he’s that cool
Says my raps are too serious, I “wrote em all in Catholic school.”
I heard you’re living by your wallpaper pattern’s rules
I heard you never left the empty bleachers of your high school.
And I’ve been sleeping on the street curb?
Smoke another cigarette and walk it out until your feet hurt
Chorus
I try to make a scene, like an ocean or a sunset
But I just make believe, there are things we haven’t done yet
My mind’s running speeds, I've never even heard of
This is how you stay young: you laugh and you murder
And you never look back and you only look further
Than you’ve been. If you’ve been down, we’ve all been down and burning
But, if you’re growing old you better re-think it
I’mma end this story back at the beginning.
So I try to make a scene, like an ocean or a sunset
But I just make believe, there are things that haven’t come yet
My mind’s running speeds, I've never even heard of
This is how you stay young: you laugh and you murder
And you never look back and you only look further
Than you’ve been. If you’ve been down, we’ve all been down and burning
But, if you’re growing old you better re-think it
I’mma end this story back at the beginning.
Produced by Devin Arne
Released on How To Stay Young EP, 2009
Inspired by summer nights and aspirations, and The KROO
Even if I got a penny for my thoughts,
I’d still be a broke kid who never left the porch.
I miss the memories I haven’t had yet
And I missed the bus again I gotta make that long-ass walk
Where the blue and yellow sunrise reminds me of the bruise below my left eye
From the rap battle last Friday.
But who can tell me I’m not as real as I talk?
I’ve got a hand full of style and some sidewalk chalk.
I’mma get out this small town before my hands wrinkle.
Lately I’ve been dreaming more than Rip Van Winkle.
I’m a simple man, damn, mad symbols in her words
Make me feel like we’re freshmen again in the woods chillin.
Or on the roof where we’d listen to the birds
And I learned we all change like a stripper after work
So I gotta keep going till my knees break.
Man I’ve got a plan to stay young until the scar on my cheek fades.
Chorus
I try to make a scene, like an ocean or a sunset
But I just make believe, there are things that haven’t come yet
My mind’s running speeds, I've never even heard of
This is how you stay young: you laugh and you murder
And you never look back and you only look further
Than you’ve been. If you’ve been down, we’ve all been down and burning
But, if you’re growing old you better re-think it
I’mma end this story back at the beginning.
Here’s my advice. Promise more than doubt.
Like the time we spent the day in town locked out of your father’s house
And followed all the cars speeding down 207
Crossed the bridge to Terabithia around eleven
Said my feet were cold, stepping on the train tracks
Looking for a way back home, to hit that party in my cul-de-sac
'Cause in the summer free teenage spirits
Spit G like a kid with a stutter saying, “G-g-g-get out!”
I’mma light up the track, can you hear it?
Spending more time with that than you do in front your mirror
Getting pretty for some jock who thinks he’s that cool
Says my raps are too serious, I “wrote em all in Catholic school.”
I heard you’re living by your wallpaper pattern’s rules
I heard you never left the empty bleachers of your high school.
And I’ve been sleeping on the street curb?
Smoke another cigarette and walk it out until your feet hurt
Chorus
I try to make a scene, like an ocean or a sunset
But I just make believe, there are things we haven’t done yet
My mind’s running speeds, I've never even heard of
This is how you stay young: you laugh and you murder
And you never look back and you only look further
Than you’ve been. If you’ve been down, we’ve all been down and burning
But, if you’re growing old you better re-think it
I’mma end this story back at the beginning.
So I try to make a scene, like an ocean or a sunset
But I just make believe, there are things that haven’t come yet
My mind’s running speeds, I've never even heard of
This is how you stay young: you laugh and you murder
And you never look back and you only look further
Than you’ve been. If you’ve been down, we’ve all been down and burning
But, if you’re growing old you better re-think it
I’mma end this story back at the beginning.
THE KITE FLYERS
Lyrics/Performed by Dylan Owen
Produced by Devin Arne/Dylan Owen
Released on How To Stay Young EP, 2009
Inspired by Cape Canaveral
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you've always been an artist drawing circles round your eyes
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
So leave your grief behind and put your bearings down
Like that shoebox in the empty closet of your parents' house
Let's take this casualty count and tear it apart
Even the Man in the Moon's getting sick of sitting in the dark
I went to school but never learned my lesson
Cause yo I still feel for you, save your letters on my dresser
Look, I'm not free of blame, I too deserve a lecture
But I figured out elaborately that it's whatever
I know I've been wasting time like a broken watch
Head against the grandfather clock choking, hoping for a spot.
I've been joking with my friends about the end and when we'll meet again
If you don't know yourself you better not just let it be, my friend
I'm not a comedian but I can make you laugh
I'm not a hooker but I've got a dirty past
So here's a map for you because you're lost among the cracks in the road
Get up and do it fast
C H O R U S
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you've always been an actor running parallel lines
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
So we gon change to maintain
A depth greater than my emotion on grey cassette tapes
That say my name in ancient and extremely bad print
Don't ever say your pain is getting worse than my chapped lips
So we gotta get some air to make it out
Cause I've been waking up from dreaming on your fake foam couch
Am I mistaken? I was flying over mountaintops and caves
And then I landed and spit a rap for the administration
C H O R U S
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you've always been a firefighter burning inside
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
I ain't never had nothing cept what's on my mind
I ain't never been nothing but a kid with a half-broken smile
My bare feet'll freeze on the tile
As I call up myself and say "Hey, it's been awhile."
I know this past year was filled with frustration
But me and Mr. Stranger had some great conversations
And I'm finding hope in little things eradicating doubt
Singing "I ain't never had nothing. But that won't get me down."
C H O R U S . 2
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you smoke weed but never get your altitude high
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
&
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you've always been a speaker at the Dead Poets Society
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
Produced by Devin Arne/Dylan Owen
Released on How To Stay Young EP, 2009
Inspired by Cape Canaveral
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you've always been an artist drawing circles round your eyes
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
So leave your grief behind and put your bearings down
Like that shoebox in the empty closet of your parents' house
Let's take this casualty count and tear it apart
Even the Man in the Moon's getting sick of sitting in the dark
I went to school but never learned my lesson
Cause yo I still feel for you, save your letters on my dresser
Look, I'm not free of blame, I too deserve a lecture
But I figured out elaborately that it's whatever
I know I've been wasting time like a broken watch
Head against the grandfather clock choking, hoping for a spot.
I've been joking with my friends about the end and when we'll meet again
If you don't know yourself you better not just let it be, my friend
I'm not a comedian but I can make you laugh
I'm not a hooker but I've got a dirty past
So here's a map for you because you're lost among the cracks in the road
Get up and do it fast
C H O R U S
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you've always been an actor running parallel lines
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
So we gon change to maintain
A depth greater than my emotion on grey cassette tapes
That say my name in ancient and extremely bad print
Don't ever say your pain is getting worse than my chapped lips
So we gotta get some air to make it out
Cause I've been waking up from dreaming on your fake foam couch
Am I mistaken? I was flying over mountaintops and caves
And then I landed and spit a rap for the administration
C H O R U S
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you've always been a firefighter burning inside
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
I ain't never had nothing cept what's on my mind
I ain't never been nothing but a kid with a half-broken smile
My bare feet'll freeze on the tile
As I call up myself and say "Hey, it's been awhile."
I know this past year was filled with frustration
But me and Mr. Stranger had some great conversations
And I'm finding hope in little things eradicating doubt
Singing "I ain't never had nothing. But that won't get me down."
C H O R U S . 2
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you smoke weed but never get your altitude high
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
&
These are your directions if you want to learn to fly
If you're sick of feeling down like it's never been your time
If you've always been a speaker at the Dead Poets Society
Sing "I ain't never had nothing. And I ain't been nothing."
But that's all right there's no need to be confined
I'll lead you to the deepest of the dreamy skies
Sing it with me
"I ain't never had nothing 'cept what's on my mind. And I ain't never been nothing 'cept ready to fly."
A Bad Case of the Gimmies
Lyrics/Performed by Dylan Owen (featuring Chelsea Wertheim)
Produced by Dylan Owen/Devin Arne
Released on How To Stay Young EP, 2009
Inspired by Enya Von Schill
This is worn out imagery of torn down images
Crashing paper plane flights of sworn out sentences
In sorry songs that finish with a VIP pass to the ocean
Man I'll be making waves before I crashWhat's the link between a smile and a cemetery?
Laugh tracks are with these flashbacks stacked in photograph packs
Or open album trash that leaks your empty memories
In worn down images of torn out tendencies
But I'll be back in New York soon where I can read this
To old bearded poets whose steam fled when fear hit their cigarettes and skin
They stopped pouring sunlight the morning they were born
They were only taught to run right
But isn't that me in the future? I've got a thousand of em
Caught in an instant. Chances where the sound is sung.
You'll never drown me now when it's all about the listening
To the worn out admittance of the things that always get to me
What if this ship was gonna sink in the next couple minutes
Would you drop the anchor from your grip?
Or would you go out fighting, singing Hallelujah on the bending bow edge of the ship?
What if your life was gonna end in the next couple minutes
Would you leave your sad soul within?
Or would you go out fighting, singing Hallelujah, with "Titanic" trapped in between your lips?
And now I'm at a New York payphone with one call and a decision to make
And I'd rather stay home than stay awake
Cause these days get worn out, these pages get torn down
Till snowflakes need to fall to warm grounds
But I've got a lot of sorting out to do. Don't we all
Got a bad case of the gimmies and a stand like a bowling ball?
Well that's good, if you want belief to form around your beliefs
Otherwise it's a worn out streak
So I can either call my childhood and tell him it's my dream
Or join the cigarette men who all lost their steam.
Is it a sentence or a savior when it's seen from the streets?
In worn out ways, I've got water at my feet
But even that can't stop me now. I've got a thousand of em
Tensions in my lungs and I swore I wouldn't count em.
When there's not much more to believe in, you'll see it.
In worn down days I'm torn but still repeating
What if this ship was gonna sink in the next couple minutes
Would you drop the anchor from your grip?
Or would you go out fighting, singing Hallelujah on the bending bow edge of the ship?
What if your life was gonna end in the next couple minutes
Would you leave your sad soul within?
Or would you go out fighting, singing Hallelujah, with "Titanic" trapped in between your lips?
Produced by Dylan Owen/Devin Arne
Released on How To Stay Young EP, 2009
Inspired by Enya Von Schill
This is worn out imagery of torn down images
Crashing paper plane flights of sworn out sentences
In sorry songs that finish with a VIP pass to the ocean
Man I'll be making waves before I crashWhat's the link between a smile and a cemetery?
Laugh tracks are with these flashbacks stacked in photograph packs
Or open album trash that leaks your empty memories
In worn down images of torn out tendencies
But I'll be back in New York soon where I can read this
To old bearded poets whose steam fled when fear hit their cigarettes and skin
They stopped pouring sunlight the morning they were born
They were only taught to run right
But isn't that me in the future? I've got a thousand of em
Caught in an instant. Chances where the sound is sung.
You'll never drown me now when it's all about the listening
To the worn out admittance of the things that always get to me
What if this ship was gonna sink in the next couple minutes
Would you drop the anchor from your grip?
Or would you go out fighting, singing Hallelujah on the bending bow edge of the ship?
What if your life was gonna end in the next couple minutes
Would you leave your sad soul within?
Or would you go out fighting, singing Hallelujah, with "Titanic" trapped in between your lips?
And now I'm at a New York payphone with one call and a decision to make
And I'd rather stay home than stay awake
Cause these days get worn out, these pages get torn down
Till snowflakes need to fall to warm grounds
But I've got a lot of sorting out to do. Don't we all
Got a bad case of the gimmies and a stand like a bowling ball?
Well that's good, if you want belief to form around your beliefs
Otherwise it's a worn out streak
So I can either call my childhood and tell him it's my dream
Or join the cigarette men who all lost their steam.
Is it a sentence or a savior when it's seen from the streets?
In worn out ways, I've got water at my feet
But even that can't stop me now. I've got a thousand of em
Tensions in my lungs and I swore I wouldn't count em.
When there's not much more to believe in, you'll see it.
In worn down days I'm torn but still repeating
What if this ship was gonna sink in the next couple minutes
Would you drop the anchor from your grip?
Or would you go out fighting, singing Hallelujah on the bending bow edge of the ship?
What if your life was gonna end in the next couple minutes
Would you leave your sad soul within?
Or would you go out fighting, singing Hallelujah, with "Titanic" trapped in between your lips?
Sandlot Blues Revisited
Lyrics/Performed by Dylan Owen
Unreleased.
I saved your letters to reread when life gets adventurous
And wrote you this song for later on if you remember it.
I know things are tough right now; they are for me too.
But I don’t think that’s any reason that I shouldn’t speak to you
Or vice versa. Look, I write it how it fits me most.
I’ve always been a dreamer for the misty coast
But I think our suburban memories could make the city choke
In the summer we would only hear crickets like shitty jokes.
Now self-pity’s got me by the throat, a cold stand
On old metal bleachers where we used to hold hands
In the stands of the homecoming sports games. I wish I could
Buy back the time that we’ve lost but I’m short on change.
And I sulk and I stare at the clock no matter how long the day is.
I can’t believe you’re different, or how much you’ve changed.
Let’s put it this way: relationships are complicated
If you’ve gotta light a match to spark some conversation.
Guess I’ve always wanted what I couldn’t have.
I grab the strands of my noose.
Losing sense in these sandlot blues.
I say moving on’s worse than being stuck in the same sad shoes,
But I hang my head and pay my dues.
And I pray that the dudes that you kiss now are proud
Cause we speak in tongue twisters, tornadoes in our mouths,
Listen, I can’t get through to you, you’ve filtered me out.
I flipped my life upside down, the ceiling is the ground.
And it seems like these days you forget that I know ya
Or that we made love on my bed below a Bob Dylan poster
Or wore crowns on our heads because we won each other’s heaven
Arm in arm walking down a now empty 207.
I might miss you forever and regret my decision
But at least I won’t forget you; memories will still exist
And in them I can find myself again, a silent solace self-within.
Maybe one day you’ll call me and I’ll tell you then:
I’ve always wanted what I couldn’t have.
I grab the strands of my noose.
Losing sense in these sandlot blues.
I say moving on’s worse than being stuck in the same sad shoes,
But I hang my head and pay my dues.
I’ve always wanted what I couldn’t have.
I grab the strands of my noose.
Losing sense in these sandlot blues.
I say moving on’s worse than being stuck in the same sad shoes,
But I hang my head and I pay my dues.
Unreleased.
I saved your letters to reread when life gets adventurous
And wrote you this song for later on if you remember it.
I know things are tough right now; they are for me too.
But I don’t think that’s any reason that I shouldn’t speak to you
Or vice versa. Look, I write it how it fits me most.
I’ve always been a dreamer for the misty coast
But I think our suburban memories could make the city choke
In the summer we would only hear crickets like shitty jokes.
Now self-pity’s got me by the throat, a cold stand
On old metal bleachers where we used to hold hands
In the stands of the homecoming sports games. I wish I could
Buy back the time that we’ve lost but I’m short on change.
And I sulk and I stare at the clock no matter how long the day is.
I can’t believe you’re different, or how much you’ve changed.
Let’s put it this way: relationships are complicated
If you’ve gotta light a match to spark some conversation.
Guess I’ve always wanted what I couldn’t have.
I grab the strands of my noose.
Losing sense in these sandlot blues.
I say moving on’s worse than being stuck in the same sad shoes,
But I hang my head and pay my dues.
And I pray that the dudes that you kiss now are proud
Cause we speak in tongue twisters, tornadoes in our mouths,
Listen, I can’t get through to you, you’ve filtered me out.
I flipped my life upside down, the ceiling is the ground.
And it seems like these days you forget that I know ya
Or that we made love on my bed below a Bob Dylan poster
Or wore crowns on our heads because we won each other’s heaven
Arm in arm walking down a now empty 207.
I might miss you forever and regret my decision
But at least I won’t forget you; memories will still exist
And in them I can find myself again, a silent solace self-within.
Maybe one day you’ll call me and I’ll tell you then:
I’ve always wanted what I couldn’t have.
I grab the strands of my noose.
Losing sense in these sandlot blues.
I say moving on’s worse than being stuck in the same sad shoes,
But I hang my head and pay my dues.
I’ve always wanted what I couldn’t have.
I grab the strands of my noose.
Losing sense in these sandlot blues.
I say moving on’s worse than being stuck in the same sad shoes,
But I hang my head and I pay my dues.