Corn Husk Movement

So fuckin bored I'm pulling weeds And keeping score Of everything Building a door Without a keyhole Downin' three And another six I'm doubting me I'm feeling faceless In a field of corn A husk Flying competition You're a drive-by Walking in through The roof, tapping and leaking Plastic over the Windows, it's freezing You said the line is blue And then it's pink Made from a tree Cut by a machine Put through a place Now used for spit wads Describing things In the line of sight And peripheral view No longer bored Without a key So row the door Without the "D" When I come back Driving A Cadillac But that's just me