The Pantaloon - Self-Titled

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Your grandpa died

When you were nine

They said he had lost his mind

You have learned

Way too soon

You should never trust the Pantaloon


Now it's your turn

To be alone

Find a wife and build yourself a home

You have learned

Way too soon

That your dad is now the Pantaloon


You are tired

You are hurt

A moth ate through

Your favorite shirt

And all your friends

Fertilize

The ground you walk

Lose your mind


He's seen too many stare downs

Between the sun and the moon

In the morning air

How he used to hustle all the people

Walking through the fairgrounds

He's been around so long

He's changed his meaning of a chair now

Because a chair now,

Is like a tiny island in the sea of all the people

Who glide across the very surface

That made his bones feeble

The end can't come soon enough

But is it too soon?

Either way he can't deny

He is a Pantaloon


You are tired

You are hurt

A moth ate through

Your favorite shirt

And all your friends

Fertilize

The ground you walk

Lose your mind


You like to sleep alone

It's colder than you know

'Cause your skin is so used to colder bones

It's warmer in the morning

Than what it is at night

Your bones are held together

By you nightmares and your frights



You are tired

You are hurt

A moth ate through

Your favorite shirt

And all your friends

They fertilize

The ground you walk

So lose your mind


You are tired

You are hurt

A moth ate through

Your favorite shirt

And all your friends

They fertilize

The ground you walk

Lose your mind





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