I go with you to heavenwhere everything wrong with usturns out to have beena sinus thingyou take no pleasurein punishing peoplewho’ve hurt youI don’t get thatI wanna be goodSometimes I feel like a cool manSometimes because of youmy happinessis so pellucidit traces an exitpeople smile at mewhen I’m with youwhen I’m aloneI practice looking hardI’m thrashed by thehideous clothes of the richand in dreams my father casually alivealways at the dooror in a cabin in the pinesand I’m almost therewhere have you been I sayand he’s like, what