Tim will burn
“I’m a musician” just say that you’re broke.
Show us the empty guitar case you lie in front of you
In front of your home like Oscar the Grouch, mask a passion with angst
Pull that drive back like a pit on a chain bully to subdue so you don’t show us you have vulnerability
Button up your shirt like a custodian going to work yet you feel exposed in your cubicle
You’re vulnerable and splayed the malnourished form like a body pillow for everyone to see
Let them have fun trying to sexualize the empty watermelon you eat to sustain yourself
Because Pedro always looked better when he was skinny,
Show us your bones and prove you’ll expose them in your lyrics
Make your words hit us like the tarnished metal in a forgotten ammo case
Make your passion bleed from the desperation in your eyes
But only when you get back from work, you little latte dancing work machine.