I've got a newspaper problem
Swimming laps through my head
Past the abstract excuses I've passed off as facts to the people I've met
My brother's piece in the paper says it all
We excuse asshole and bastards, to detail their defects in beautiful songs
And I wonder is it a free pass I'm banking
I, a bruise in a brushwash
Nail marks from a featherbed
A reflex hammer cracks porcelain
And the doctor's don't do anything
So you've got a reputation
And it's mean enough to follow me around
So I'm bad at being careful, so you should be careful for yourself
And I've been working all day to make the rest of my body behave like my brain
If it pans out I plan to keep it that way
And I think we kiss like dry dirt
A dusty string of filthy words
A dribble out between spurts of carnival barks and symphonic stirs
You're the lesson I never could learn
You, a bruise in a brushwash
Nail marks from a featherbed
A reflex hammer cracks porcelain
And the doctor's don't fix anything
So you've got a reputation
And it's mean enough to follow you around
And you're bad at being careful, so I should be careful with myself
You're still the name I say first
And I'm trying to figure out just what that's worth
I, a bruise in a brushwash
Nail marks from a featherbed
A reflex hammer cracks porcelain
And the doctors don't fix anything
So I've got a reputation
And it's mean enough to follow me around
And I'm bad at being careful, so you should be careful for yourself