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Catcher in the Rye
The catcher in the rye
I go and drop the ball
I lay it down and cry
I’m sleeping in the stall
Cause everyone is phony
Your company is lonely
Your animals are bony
Your everything is only
I’m underneath the bridge
Below the overpass
I’m locked inside the fridge
I’m sleeping in the grass
Cause everyone is faking
Every excuse for bailing
Your painted skin is flaking
Success story is failing
You’re spinning all around
Mascara masquerade
You’re walking without sound
A conga line charade
You’re hands and feet are bound
You’re tied into the ground
And nailed into the wall
I’ve lost sight of the ball
I’ve lost sight of the band
And buried in the sand
They’re telling me it’s fine
They’re calling me insane
They think I’ve lost my mind
They’re calling me Cobain
They’re telling me to smile
They tell me not to cry
And maybe stay a while
The catcher in the rye
Copyright ©
Nameless Nothing
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