There is this ringing
Calling me to write
Like the bell to start the fight
I box with words
Get quick and jabby on the page
While my eyes fill with
Sand and tears because
I should be asleep
Not working on the
Dreaming masterpiece
And connecting to that
Great group mind in the
3:15 dead air space
Even this is too strange
To explain
So I just do it
And hope some day
To decipher the hidden code
Where "all I want is sleep"
Means "trouble in paradise"
And "I am selfish"
Means "I'm not thinking of taking care of me"
And how I'd rather have
Praise for honesty
Than schmaltzy tear-jerking
Stanzas that leave me
Feeling dirty
I want to take a bath
In my ink
The dyed skin
Maybe I'll
Drop out
Follow the band
Sell beads to other groupies
And finally find
Some peace of mindThis Angry Heart
Beats too much
For the wrong reasons
And doesn't even dare
Beat for its own sake
Am I angry at the
Wrong person?
I know I'm angry
That I believed in some
Kind old man
Who would answer
My prayers and
End my torment
(In case you don't know-
it never worked, and I
even prayed in school)
So now what's left?
Billy Joel's Angry Young Man
Where I fight the useless fight
And think a tender time will
Never come?
What now?
Sleep,
And another
year of scribbling my
late night
confession
Because night owls
Get it.
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