J I N S A I . N E T

rewind the tape
i will catch our mistakes
i want to point and laugh
and throw it in your face
struck twice by lightning
and nobody was watching
i dropped my cigarette and burned your precious carpet
there goes the welcome rug for the perfectionist
we’re unloading roadkill,
reaping the profits,
we’re black market mavericks
so i raise my glass and propose a toast,
for this amazing party i thank my absent host
for taking us alive to mingle with the ghosts
should i push my luck?
should i talk to loud or fast?
id this all turn to nonsense,
look at me i’m typecast
we’re at a party, and our hands overflow with confetti
you’ll be glad you stuck with us
here you could be immortalized in all of the eyes of these uncaring passersby

< running down the stairs

the elevator stalled between summer and fall >