The Story of my Life

(Andy) I was born in a box car Color-blind, pigeon toed, pock-marked Twisted figure, broken heart They'd fixed up with monkey parts (P.O.S.) I was born in a four story roach motel With floor to ceiling agitations Wooden blocks and basic distaste for anything else (Andy) I was raised by a pack of wolves Nursed in our nations capital Taught to hunt and gather food Howl at the moon in the reflecting pool (P.O.S.) I was raised by a slow jam Two grizzlies for a mother who cared Six packs of ramen, nostradamus paranoia affair (Andy) I fell in love with the flim-flammer Charming con-artist, sexy counterfeiter Pretty grifter, hidden ace switch making quick fingers (P.O.S.) I fell in love with the most beautiful vulture She picked away my flesh, I'm left with skeletons Welcome warm and tearing through like soldiers (Andy) And she gave birth to my only son A smoking gun Blue eyed, block chip On the first warm day to end the ice age prospect (P.O.S.) And she gave birth to a lion-cub It's followed me for years now I'm leaning by the A's so I don't peak I know it's chewing on my fingers while I sleep I know it's stupid but it keeps without a leash And I've been trying to set it loose It seems it's freedom stripping me So I treat it like what it is I lay these eggshells to remember to be careful (both) You can find a swarm where the stingers hold back You can find a warm spot in a cold snap If you don't scratch when the itches make you hair stand tall It may shake you but you won't fall (2x) (Andy) Justice can sleep for centuries To wake when it's least expected I never seen miraculous deeds Fall on those who expect them Life ain't a dream it's just a string of jokes All connected There's something beautiful to me In the act of making your own death bed (P.O.S.) And we sung We walk with smiles like chalk, quick to wash off Suit and loose and unbuttoned like ready to draw Love it raw 'till tender is far too fierce for us Winter is almost here for us, and like July Hard to find tracks when it's buried under so much decay Hard to find trail when it's buried under what's paved This is the story of my trial by erosion of words Simple what's right like who's just being polite (2x) (both) You can find a swarm where the stingers hold back You can find a warm spot in a cold snap If you don't scratch when the itches make you hair stand tall It may shake you but you won't fall down (2x) (Andy) You can find a swarm where the stingers hold back You can find a warm spot in a cold snap If you don't scratch when the itches make you hair stand tall It may shake you but you won't fall down