That Pale Paisley Print Didn’t Fool Me Or Lull Me Into a False Sense of Serenity

Double bass digits     burning holes through tabletops

I never much liked the doctors     or waiting
spending all my precious pent up patience
and non-existent paper notes     that stand for promises

I'll never get to keep

Cut a hole     use them as bait
to fish for answers in this well lit hell

White sterile coats stare at us
(we must look a fine pair)

The lady with a paper hat took me aside     looked in my eyes
and the bitch had the balls to ask if I could be mature

Didn't she know what the fuck was going on?
(I mean     that's her job)

We just lobbed lies in a volatile volley     you and I
didn't know what the fuck we were doing