Scratched Out

Wake up and waste a day
(Chase away) A day at a time
(And waste away) Clean-faced today
(Clean taste of yay)
Toothpaste makes my orange juice sour
Waste an hour (Or so)
Rush hour (Is slow)
The flowers (That grow)
Outside of my window
Are blooming, I'm assuming
That you're coming over soon
It's almost half-past four
And you called here at noon
'Cause there's a picture that you wanna see
Now I'm not even good at being me anymore

She got nicotine-basted lungs
(Wasted thumbs)
And one of them asphalt-tasting tongues
She wakes up (To alarm)
Her make-up (Is still on)
And she can't remember why she set the damn thing
Her heart is a machine, art is meant to be seen
Not felt (Not heard)
It's just paint (They're just words)
And fingers are for feeling, fists are for beating
Scabs are for healing and blood is for bleeding
That's just how I used to be
But I'm not even good at being me anymore

I wake up and waste an hour, pace and glower
At the TV set wasting power
Aching in my head, I'm banking in the red
And compulsively charging CD's to my account
So come out, Ginny, it's getting late
You Jersey girls like to make boys wait**
Now it's too late in the day for a matinee
And I ain't got the money to pay for you anyway
(What should I say?)
I know it ain't how it used to be
But I'm not good at being me anymore

** (In first release of E.Von Dahl, instead of saying:
"So come out, Ginny, it's getting late
You Jersey girls like to make boys wait"
It's "So come out, Virginia, don't make me wait
You Catholic girls start much too late")