Oakland

I cried on my drive to Oakland

I hit the brakes too hard and I rolled in

Into the back of some really nice woman's sedan

I said"I'm so sorry, ma'am"

And she took a look at my eyes and then the damage

She said"it's nothing some polish can't manage"

And left with the wave of a hand

Why do I do this stuff?

So far I've relied on luck and crossing the line

Just a little bit more each time

You showed me that bar on 5th

And I go and I still hear your voice in the distance

Telling me I'm a swing and you missed it

And racking the back of my brain

I must be a masochistic

I can draw this shit in a triptych

And destructively fading the pigment

And signing the top of the page

Why do I do this stuff?

So far I've relied on luck and crossing the line

Just a little bit more each time

Why do we swallow whole pieces of ourselves

To gain control of some sliver of time?

Just so I can call it mine