Proxima Centauri

Wild was the wind When I found you caught up in the vines Wild was your heart Defibrillator starts to malfunction Flatlines and stop signs Could we find some structure for you Like Lego blocks This juncture we're forced through Civilized, a man of our times Shining watch and pinstripes First time you smoked You imagine two of them on a suit jacket talking to each other Six years later you slipped, took a hit Her weed kept in burlap sacks It lets you know that she's got class I told her I'm not strong now Not sure where I'm living Even my posture has been slipping Cobain style From growing boys to shrinking men Trying to capture gold with leaking pens Forever in the guest room Checking out by week's end Keep plastic stars on the ceiling Even when you're indoors Try not to lose the feeling That you're underneath the all star You see the house that you tricked yourself into thinking was yours Remember Top Ramen afternoons With yellow lab walks and family feuds Kept the drums set up in the basement Hope the ghost of your youth haunts every vacation On the trolley you smell the MSG fumes Drivers toss their menthol butts With the embers dying soon You watch the laundromat spin And hear the lover-boys croon You feel the hot dead August air And it's closing in on you too Reach for the crumpled up newspaper Between the crushed cans of lite beer And you see the headlines of another planet Even though you don't have four lightyears in you right now The thought of it's enough So you tear out the photo Tape it up onto the ceiling So even when your world ends You can hold onto the feeling