The City Has Sex

The city has sex with itself I suppose

As the concrete collides well, the scenery grows

And the lonely once bandaged lay fully exposed

They undressed their wounds for each other

And there is a boy in a basement with a four track machine

He's been strumming and screaming all night down there

The tape hiss will cover the words that he sings

They say it's better to bury your sadness

In a graveyard or garden that waits for the spring

To awake from its sleep and burst into green

Well, I cried

And you would think I would better for it

But the sadness just sleeps and it stays in my spine

For the rest of my life

And I've learned

And you'd think I'd be somethin' more now

But it just goes to show it is not what you know

It's what you were thinking of half the time

This feeling's familiar

I've been here before

In a kitchen this quiet, I waited for

A sign of just something that might reassure me of anything close

To meaning or motion with reasons to move

I need something I want to be close to

And I scream but I still don't know why I do it

Because the sound never stays it just swells and decays

So what is the point?

Why try to fight what is now so certain?

The truth is all that is a passing event that will be forgotten