Can't you see the tears falling down your vase
Are the stripes branded on my face?
While I tie the laces on my neck
You stow away the bodies on deck
Ruling the lifespan of my words
And drawing out my life with three birds
You shoot them down with knives
That could've saved millions of lives
You thought you'd make sense
That you would be of use
But even the most obtuse
Won't make many shoes
Good morning, afternoon, evening
My pencil lead just broke
Let's go to the store and by some more
And ignore my eyes that you just choked
Can I? Do I? May I? These questions
Won't be answered by neither me nor you
Since we know all the answers are buried
Inside the secrets of your shoe.
