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1989: The Best Four Years Of My Life

This song is by Wow, Owls!.

This is a picture postcard
Greetings from wherever I am
I've been handled and perused by second hand men in hand me down shoes
You want me to sing you a song? what key do you want it in? I've got the perfect pitch
Dress and doll me up and ill assume your role
Dissect me
Don't you disappoint me
You can lay me on your table and cut me up with your scalpel
Ill slip on the concrete just to get it right
I'm your fool of all fools
Trapped in grammatical errors, we're all prison pent
Monsters make love in my closet with skeletons
The doors wide open
These words are recorded from black lungs
You can't hug a photograph or kiss a melody but you can still relive memories
I'm encased in tattered transparencies and worn out grooves smoothed out by use from a needle tracing impressions of direction
You can pick up my broken body, dust me off, remember that I tried, remember that we all tried
Maybe this time the words will make sense
Is it so hard to lose your thoughts like mine? it balms the mind with painless numbing novacaine neverminds
Maybe this time the notes will fit in tune, I am the emulsion
Dead letters still can speak
We are not unique but we still can pretend as long we stand on the shoulders of shadows of giants that were never there
You can cleanse me
Your melodies and harmonies erase me