Cover up the evidence
of continued wasting of life
throw up a front, spare no expense
poke it and dig around with the knife
so full of venom
so full of rage
so empty of the wherewithal to fill another page
tick on like an old spring clock
I don't know what the hell is winding me
mulling over, taking stock
you're taking your damn good time finding me
one in a million means so little down here
means lost among the thousands
and one thing's clear
you've got to cover up the evidence
try to look important
it will mean nothing fifty years hence
So let's not talk about the elephant
standing by in this small room
also don't mention it's a tomb
what
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