lice

 

same old     same old     here I am,  back in the dock again      I guess it’s too late now to plead insanity         so what’s my excuse?     I’m picking at old wounds     might even tear me a few new ones      but I can’t help myself      some memories have sharp edges      and weigh heavy on the heart    there’s pain at the core of everything      sometimes I can’t see it        but it’s always there         like worms gnawing on my bones     or lice crawling through my hair