I wrote this earlier. I suppose it's about hoping you'll be someone or make your mark. Or knowing that you won't. Working title.
They’re lighting candles in the Laundromat
For a boy that went missing just the other day
We’re crying ourselves in to a blur
Hoping he left with some pretty girl and
Not with coins balanced on his eyes
They say that he practiced poetry
But that doesn’t mean much to me
There’s a thousand poets going blind
There’s a thousand poets going deaf and blind
There’s a homeless guy, sits out by the bins
And on weekends he holds signs down by the avenues
Things like “End the war or it will consume us”
“Happiness is everything to us”
Well I guess that cripple found a way to grieve
He gets a coin for everyone that agrees
A coin for everyone he pleases
And hell, these days, he’s looking mighty thin
Yeah, these days he’s looking pretty thin
Well here we measure time in World Wars
As rich and thriving as the ocean floor
For each Messiah, beaten and blistered
There’s a thousand more just whispering
Keep quiet, and they’ll never know we were here
I’d like to think that I’m among them
Crying on a broken bus bench
I can’t help but feel everything’s to fear
I can’t help but feel everything’s to fear
I’ll set myself on fire to stop a dozen wars
I’ll set myself alight, just for a little love
I’ll be a spectacle until it’s over
Put me on a record cover
And then go back to midday TV
Hippies saw Jesus in America
Never thought to cut their hair ‘cause
Everything seems so great until it goes
Everything seems great until it’s all gone
Well I bet you’ve heard this all before
Some teenage kid just spewing in to a microphone
I’m not trying to change the rules
I’m just strumming simple chords
And if the world ends, I’ll go down singing
How selflessly self absorbed
To think you’re on this world
For any purpose, other than to leave
I’ve got no purpose, I’m just gonna leave
I’m just gonna leave
