Year of the Sofa

Give Yourself Junk Drawer: People talk about the storm that's coming, a thousand lives through cinema's shelves/ Talk to strangers in hotel lobbies, get my leads through cinema's shelves/ People talk about the golden era, I saw it and nothing changed/ Late night thoughts like they're everybody's Gospel - But I could tell you that from my sofa Judging your steps to improve in vain I need time Give me time before the genius strikes There was a man who drew broad, hidden truths with his pen, they said The work/words more lucid than they were to himself But when he got what he wanted it was what he once wanted/ Elevated ruminations, when everybody goes down/ And at the party, when the band kept playing, they never asked me to play their game A thousand pages in the book you'll never know now I never even found out his name I need time Give me tiiiiiime Before I I think we might need to make some corrections Rationalising fears as misdirection/Living out fantasies by self-rejection You'll find me on the couch, spinning webs of accumulated lies Fantasies that leave me unsatisfied Remember when's the lowest form of conversation Remember when gets you to a lot of places Fantasies that leave me unsatisfied No today, but tomorrow is all miiiiine Another burnt out for the niiiight Drawing broad strokes of accumulated liiiies Fantastic that leave me unsatisfied