I Put the "Art" in "Artificial"

i was trying too hard/ the sound of my words didn't match the thought/ of the voices in my head/ they told me genius but i wrote down nonsense instead/ this rusty guitar/ played the notes i didn't feel and my mouth spat out the parts/ to the tunes that best fit/ the buyer, not the writer or the warmth within my heart

my speech was muffled and slurred/ my lips dribbled every word/ so i filled up my cup/ but my unstable hand couldn't hold the contents up/ and these carpet stains are getting old/ yeah, these carpet stains have turned to mold

i bought wood at the store/ so when my words spill to the floor/ they won't leave stains anymore/ just a one-minute-mess, a quick to-do chore/ or the words can soak/ into the boarded earth and poke holes in the oak/ then my words can choke/ all on their own

my speech was muffled and slurred/ my lips mumbled every word/ so the holes were removed/ until the holiest of medias probed my every move/ and this sunken home is getting old/ this sunken home became controlled/ by the watermark of noble mold/ yeah, this empty house has turned cold

so when you come knockin' on my door/ you better bring a hammer/ you better make a clamor, girl/ cuz even though im lying right on the entrance floor/ i swear to you, i don't live here anymore

- afm