Leaky Bag - Thinking Fellers Union Local 282

By the way, son, you’re staring in the mirror

By the way, son, you’re looking at yourself

By the way, son

It’s only me

You want to close your eyes and think of nothing

And slip away

By the way, son, there’s no one at your shoulder

By the way, son, there’s no one in the room

By the way, son

Your brooding eyes

There’s nothing on the floor

Just look me in the face

You can look so ugly

By the way, son, I’m lying in the ground

By the way, son, you know just where I am

You see him still

His strength controls you and still you cower

He’s only bones

Stick this back into your mind

Stick this back into your heart

I know I’m a leaky bag

All the time, drip, drip, drip, drip

They pricked me full of holes, left me a dribbling wreck

Fallen limp like a dead balloon

I’m drooling out of every pore

Oh Lord I’m puddles everywhere

I’d like to bloat for a while and maybe wrap myself in gauze

And keep it all inside my heart

I don’t need such a leaky bag