Wanting Things Makes You Shittier

I used to bend the will of rivers

And send them flooding in the fields where delicate things grew

I never noticed above

Dark rain clouds like bruises in the sky

I kept my eye on the prize

I ground down to the gum

Milky young teeth at the bit

My whole world was in my room

Playing both sides of a magic game

Blackbirds scream

And a bootleg Maxell tape for Queen

Some wooden animals and lockets of wheat

A string of garlic hanging from my ceiling

To keep Dracula away

I never saw him anyway

And that's good enough for me

'Cause I'm always wrong before I'm right