Don't tell me what I can and cannot do
or the things I'm powerless to prove.
You call yourself prodigal son
and me, I'm the pretentious one.
Let me help you down from that tall equine of yours.
Just like sheep who eat their own wool
before the sheers can take it from them take it all off
your face will move in ways I can't recognize the next time we talk.
But at least I know it was me who split the seams.
Yeah I ripped this up.
I planted every page I tore out in the lawn.
All seeds of doubt to the wind.
Blooms will grow on this gnarled and stunted tree.
And oh how they thrive, so mockingly.
And all the ends in my ash tray will turn into leaves.
Into gargantuan evergreens.
And me to steam.
You wait here, I'm gonna go find an axe.