Nova‐Leigh

There's a space in my mind's big bookshelves, Holds the place of an idiot's dream. For the songs I'll never sing, Humming sweet summer guitar melodies. & I cry for them. For the girls & the boys I'll never meet. Boo-hoo & I try to bleed. & The hairs on my arms stand up with me. This reverie happens to be steeped misery. Don't sing this one with me. Tell the night I'm not sleeping I'll be tired when I'm dead Get me up, roll me over I'm feeling upset. I start feeling the sunlight on my legs, on my face Get me up, roll me over. I'm feeling okay. There's a place in my mind's bookshelf for the song I'll never sing. It goes "ooh, ooh" & I try not to bleed & the hairs on my arm stand up with me. This reverie happens to be steeped misery. Don't sing this one with me. Tell the night I'm not sleeping Say I'll be tired when I'm dead Get me up, roll me over I'm feeling upset. I start feeling the sunlight on my legs, on my face Get me up, roll me over. I'm feeling okay. There's a space in my mind's bookshelf for the song I never sing It goes "ooh ooh" It cut my vocal chords with a razor blade while I tried to scream to you. I can feel it on the inside. Makes me itch and twitch through & through. Double barrel shotgun through my chest this afternoon. For you & you & you & you & you There's a space in my mind's big bookshelves, holds the place of an idiot's dream.