We’re both Crashing.

Lyrics

Choo Choo,
she pulls into the station feeling oh so blue…
yet another birthday promise ruined by you…
and your selfish, greedy, me, me, me, brain…
some days I occasionally pray you meet a real bully and they run you for every penny of that non existent change…
and you can finally understand what it feels like to be derailed…
unexpectedly…
to think you’re succeeding like you never have…
just for your world to belittle you into thinking all you do is fail…
so you start taking these little blue pills…
and smoking weed to the extent that when you breathe,
you look like a classic F.E.F. 3,
just puff, puff, puffin’ down the tracks as you’re parallel to your toxic first love’s street!
and your wheels are clacking along to the sound of her ever thumping feet,
because she can’t grasp the importance of cooking her own child something healthy to eat!
someone else has to do it!
oh, hi Debbie!
Aly’s here too…
Your mom, dad, brothers, 98% of your family could care less about your crocodile coo,
and yet you’re here bitching about my easily solvable moods!?
you can,

choo choo!
the fuck outta town!
Choo choo!
Chugga Chugga Chugga Chugga Chugga Chugga Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-choo-choo-choo-choo, Chug-Chug-chugga-ch-ch-ch-chugga,
lug,
ugh,
see,
now I gotta go to homemakers for a whole new rug,
and that’s got me miffed,
had you just been a little nicer,
this engineer would’ve let you be the front seat driver,
or,
at the very least,
a shotgun rider,
with the window seat,
as we took a Zephyr to pick up our new Porsche 718 Spyder,
that I had wrapped for you in Chicago Bear Orange and Blue,
with a 54 painted on it and a hand airbrushed autograph because I knew how much that meant to you,
but instead of faith all you showed me was some misplaced anger and unjustified rage,
so you get the steam blowing out the pipe of the locomotive as I blast by that raggedy ole condo,
you may have a nice Audi,
I’ve got a fuckin’ train though,
so what used to be a dream is now dust in the wind to me so,
next time you try to brag about your earthly material,
remember, at least my $300 payday didn’t come paired with something venereal,
oops,
was that trivial?
who cares…
I can’t breathe again,
begging for my inhaler,
and you sit there in dreamland drugged by doctors with reckless behaviors,
he banged cocaine and wrote a one hundred and twenty pill supply of Xanax for a confirmed addict, it’s on paper,
and yet you wonder why we all split and you think we’re all being haters,
girl,
you’re an addict,
and you can’t accept you’ve been a key player,
in a mutual trauma we passed down to an innocent stranger,
in the grand scheme, we killed her future,
yet you still yell at her, scold her, and tell her she’s too much when she just wants to go for a Sunday drive,
damn,
and to think your daddy loved you enough to cover a whole flight!
you can’t even accept a donation of $100 to drive her through the suburbs so she can fall asleep without bad dreams for a single night…
Right…