Breaking Up a Bad Habit

all i'm trying to say is that laying on the tracks leaves me open for a crash, and if i take out the trash by myself i might throw it all away, just for today, i'll say don't stop, and really mean please stop, talking to me is like chopping down a dead tree, and if you can see through my complaints and i ain'ts, the bark will break your tooth, just like truth, it leaks like sap down the side of my mouth, and further south it rests on my chin, as you begin to lose interest. this is not a test, i cannot rest until you're still, long enough for me to take a picture of your frown. i'm a sad clown whose crown of thorns and thistles propel teardrop missles, smearing across my cheek and as eyes leak, i speak some strange line about how i can't stop, won't stop, yet, i cop heartbeats from your rhythm, because i was running out of time, here's where i rhyme, again. two torches' flames dance and spark a duet, i knew it, you blew it, your disinterest gave it away, so again i'll say something, and blow out my own fire as i admire the shape of yours. you should give tours of the circles you run around in, other people would get lost too.