Through Static

1. My head is a transom Light pours in but cannot escape There is no window into me worth peering 2. I hold dear to things A grip so viced it defies metaphor And my clutch does not know the difference Between love and rage and I don't Bother to correct it 3. I am no one I am nothing and yet far too much I am selfish, and ugly, and brutish and even My art is only ever about me 4. I dreamed I was a butterfly Free and open and beautiful And when I woke up I knew it had been a dream My head is a transom Light pours in but cannot escape There is no window into me worth peering I dreamed I was a butterfly Free and open and beautiful And when I woke up I knew it had been a dream I am no one I am nothing and yet far too much I am selfish, and ugly, and brutish and even My art is only ever about me I hold dear to things A grip so viced it defies metaphor And my clutch does not know the difference Between love and rage and I don't Bother to correct it I hold dear to things A grip so viced it defies metaphor And my clutch does not know the difference Between love and rage and I don't Bother to correct it My head is a transom Light pours in but cannot escape There is no window into me worth peering I dreamed I was a butterfly Free and open and beautiful And when I woke up I knew it had been a dream I am no one I am nothing and yet far too much I am selfish, and ugly, and brutish and even My art is only ever about me I dreamed I was a butterfly There is no window into me worth peering Between love and rage and I don't Between love and rage and I don't Between love and rage and I don't Between love and rage and I don't My art is only ever about me My art is only ever about me Between love and rage and I don't I dreamed I was a butterfly I dreamed I was a butterfly I dreamed I was a butterfly I I dreamed I was a butterfly