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Circus Fires
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These Synapses Fire Blanks
I've never been a Rochester accent down on the south side of my home
I've called it so since I was in... On the landing of someone else's basement stairs,
where I'll be standing and planning for my rise on a thick cloud of hot air.
Always reminding to look down and keep smiling.
She's always been a quite peculiar kid, and they all know her name and age and weight and
where she must have been. And in the morning she walks blindly to the start of every warning
that she'll find boring.
Her long black hair won't always stay this way.
Unlike the town she lives/she knows will always stay the same.
Oh, how I wish I could tell you, you're just like me.
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But would it matter if you wake up and you can't breathe?
Can't you see that it's not personable?
You know we'll never win this race by staying in one place...
...and she goes -
'This town is a high school reunion six years before its time.
I don't want to be looking into disapproving eyes.
Every day these cretins learn one more thing that I've done.
Every day these cretins learn one more way to ruin my fun.'
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