The Mess

well the floorboard's creaking

I think it's gonna give

and the tin roof's leaking

but it's where I have to live

the pipes they're bursting

and belching from the tum

and it seems that the worst thing

has yet to come

but in all of my hatred and despise for this place

well I'd rather be in here

then out in the rat race

this world seems to big for me

I am too small

afraid of my shadow

I only crawl

into the cellar that stinks

of rot and mold

it's dark, dim, and dingy

and a sight to behold

well, the window's broken

so everyone can see

the mess - that is me

I had a stranger knock upon

my own front door

when she reached for the handle

well it fell down to the floor

I tried to hide

my embarrassment and shame

but it's falling apart

and there's no one left to blame

some things I think time will never erase

the cold smell of fear

on her stoned horror face

as she fell through the wall

I knew it was then

she decided she would never be

coming back again

and you know I don't need company

I'd rather be alone

the lines have been down for years

why bother with a phone?

well the curtains are torn

so everyone can see

the mess - that is me

I could take one step away

from what I call home

but I was never born to ramble

I never wanted to roam

I never get letters

or check my mail

and the portraits have fallen

from rusted nails

and I'm reminded of advice

an old friend had to give

who said, if you don't take care of home

where the hell you gonna live?

the window's broken

so everyone can see

the mess - that is me

the mess - that is me