25

I'm so tired of it all
So tired of the straw
Of these visions of corn
Pecked, tattered and torn
So tired of the crows
Of the neat little rows
Oh why can't it grow
Indoors, on a train
I'm over the rain
I'm done with the pain
Of staying in place
With scars on my face
From crows pecking at eyes
I'm even sick of the sky
It's so free, so why blue
Cause know something true?
I'd much rather to be you.
To be free, over sea
Anything other than me
To see crowds, be a cloud
Wear anything but this same shroud
Of mildew and crap
Oh, I'm so sick of that
And so achingly tired of me
Outside and pinned in a "t"
Seems whatever I choose
Always ends when I lose
How come I never win
Guess mannequins
Get no escape from the pain
Now go stand in the rain
Or be nailed to a beam
'Case you split a seam
Scratching your itching insides
Ain't no room for pride
In a body of straw
Ain't no room for anything, really, at all.