Waste
Justin Tarr, Ryan Hill
You said it to me
Couldn't be more clear
Got out of the car
And left my bleeding ear
You said it best
Put all the shame to rest
I thought it was real
Woke up and saw my ticket
Retort is best fed
When in the backseat
I took it to heart
And now it's sheer defeat Oh
Got out of the car
Made your point and left it there
I saw my own face
I didn't want to feed it now
Scared you from the start (blame the faulty stage)
Park the car in drive (roll into the flame)
I walk in circled nights (face a probable stain)
I told you the whole time (make a sensible claim)
You key out the space to try
And take out the garbage of flies
A large, immutable rhyme.