Fuck All These Documents

I'm always peaking on the porch
Wondering where I am, where all the dirt in the city went
I'm lost under a thin layer of water on my brain
You're lost
You'll never find me

We were sitting by the lake in FDR at dusk
My head collapsed so goddamn fast
I'm lost, but I'm where I want to be
You're lost
And you'll never find me

I smoke too much, I'm high right now
I trip too much, I'm falling down

So now it's spending every hard-earned cent
That isn't set aside for rent on plastic bags and loose cigarettes
And watching wasted time collect
In growing piles in ashtrays on my desk