Magazine A Song From Under the Floorboards

I am angry I am ill and I'm as ugly as sin

My irritability keeps me alive and kicking

I know the meaning of life, it doesn't help me a bit

I know beauty and I know a good thing when I see it

This is a song from under the floorboards

This is a song from where the wall is cracked

By force of habit, I am an insect

I have to confess I'm proud as hell of that fact

I know the highest and the best

I accord them all due respect


But the brightest jewel inside of me

Glows with pleasure at my own stupidity

This is a song ....

I used to make phantoms I could later chase

Images of all that could be desired

Then I got tired of counting all of these blessings

And then I just got tired

This is a song ...