Il testo della Weary progress

It was a nervous little shudder,
I was thinking of my mother,
I was making up excuses,
I was sorry, sore, no intimacy.
Cradlecap and funny sports and thin.
I miss my daughter's breath.
What really sticks it in
Are the cold spots in the bed.

Like everybody in the world,
I want to be misunderstood.
Likable, creepy,
Underrated, braggart,
Busy, really good.
It's weary progress.

I yell, i get frustrated, i scream.
Drunk brother painting bare rooms.
Christmas trees are scary things at 2 a.m and
Foolish lips are all the way in boston,
But they're sounding pretty good.

Like everybody in the world, i want to be
Misunderstood.
Likable, creepy,
Underrated, braggart,
Busy, really good.
It's weary progress.