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