Kafka

When I woke up this morning The sky in my window went black And though I know I do not matter I still realize there's something I lack When my woman heard me moaning She told the kids I'm diseased Yet, to see like a blind man Is just what I need to feel complete Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's how Kafka felt, when he died Feed this city to the magpies. You know, I never really tried Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what living feels like to the dead There's nothing worth doing, so I better just do nothing instead. I do not feel like talking To my friends about nothing at all All these words could ever do Was to buy some time and dampen the fall Yet I am a shallow man Grinding his teeth against a wooden tongue And then I go out at night, asking: "Why are we still having fun?" Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's how Kafka felt, when he died Feed this city to the magpies. You know, I never really tried Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what living feels like to the dead There's nothing worth doing, so I better just do nothing instead. The only things that you remember Are the things that I would like to forget So please, go chase memories While I piss into the wind instead I'm going to bury myself in a crypt made of fury and dung So the people can visit and ask: "Where did he go wrong?" Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's how Kafka felt, when he died Feed this city to the magpies. You know, I never really tried Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what living feels like to the dead There's nothing worth doing, so I better just do nothing instead and Leave no trace