Calluses

Took a couple years to turn my weaknesses to strengths Took a few more years to learn that that makes no goddamn sense I write pros and cons until my fingers get all callused You hold my hand, I read your palm I read your tarot, you think it's magic But it's just rote, it's just practice It just comes with practice I'm not even trying anymore Dig a hole and let nature run its course 'Cause nothing comes as naturally to me as hiding, or you Rotten floorboards ripped from the front porch While you were out someplace chasing storms Let's see how far you'll dig You'll just get calluses I hate having opinions, I wish my true colors were grey Dressing up my skeletons to put them on display You feel my palm, you feel my fingertips and my calluses And you laugh and you say that I'm talented But that's just practice Plaster my lips in vinyl and I'll spin and I'll spin You can dig me all the way to China You'll just get calluses Suppose sometime in some past life, I must have been an escape artist Who boasted he could hold his breath for 5 whole minutes It was probably less