I could control this expression or I could dance on the fretboard. I could batter this tendency, I could confront the mental enemy. We walk hours, we wake years, live lives loved and wives and sons. Never divide, only add. The last 15 years were pretty much a fad. Include yourself in this argument, take it all personal, everything here was meant for you. That's why the artist is anonymous too. [chorus]Look through the dust in drawers: Rubber bands and paper clips and all of your awards. Amaze yourself, unphased, loaded up like a room service tray, dedicate the games to the gays and the sun to the rays, the only day (today) to the one deity, the gaze, your gaze, her gaze, all paid up and ready, all taut and unsteady, straddling dynamite to take a side bet on the afterlife. I didn't finish that thought, you did, they did, they do it a lot. I was passed out on the cot. [chorus]Look through the dust in drawers: Rubber bands and paper clips and all of your awards. It takes a certain sameness and everpresent drain to sharpen a knife edge nose and lead us to suppose there is magic in the fluff, that a wink is not a trick, that the end has an ending and our logic isn't sick. I can't end on this note. I'm 35 and on my bucket list: Spain in May in a 32-foot sailboat.