Say how you feel when you're feeling inadequate Press all your friends into memory foam Feel with your eyes when your friends can't handle it Some friendly girl might feel like home Break out the jeans with the flat-front pockets Smile all you want when you're paying for lunch Once you get down into boyfriend trouble The pecks on the cheek won't count for much Evenings meeting up with a tube sock Steeped in bleach without any lights off Days in China, writing the future Nights with a glue gun When did it get so good? Stressed out, anemic like a bad vegetarian Got no idea what you’re blogging about ’Cause even the house show scene’s sectarian I’m not the one who sold you out Press pass to feel like a tour bus passenger Press shots to feel like you’ve done it before Pay stubs are nice and your eyes are delicate You’re not the one we waited for VIPs with CD advances We ID if you wanna dance We said this field was writing intensive Write me a rent check When did it get so good? Great ideas, radical blindness Censored on account of your shyness You say it’s just business, I figured as much And now you’re overcharging me for what I did to your old crush

Those girls just think they know you Wait till we’re through this winter chill They’ll see right through the plot And flip on you like tippy-tops I pray for your new neighbors You’re black construction paper Folded into false rewards You scatter what you can’t absorb Cold, calculated planning on your part Pretend like you don’t know I know Then move away when you get caught And take a photo with your phone Of you about to board the train Wearing Christmas clothes and crossing out my name But it’s nice to see you And how have you been? The man with the van is a friend of a friend Those girls are old enough to Make sense of what you’re up to Though it’s still too close to call There’s bets on how you’ll lose it all Christines and Kates and Karens Good schools and rich white parents Palin voters all the way They’ll fill out forms to make you pay Old, obfuscated adjective supply: You are made of what I gave you You know that as well as I Tell San Francisco, Philadelphia and Washington, DC You are marked and rights-protected Best believe you haven’t seen the last of me

(Music and lyrics by Yoko Oji Kikuchi) I’ll be wicked obvious, laying on my stomach ache You’ll be right about me; I’ll obsess over you to your face One hand in the sand, one foot in the water A party of six, your surrogate daughter Your mouth is a jukebox, my back is the beach We’re sleeping and dancing, a little of each I don’t want to leave here, I want to move in I’d start with my secrets, but where have they been? “Summer ended in early August this year,” so you say The beach dirt still fills up your shoes, the chlorine’s still inside your face I say this: “If I wake up in Brooklyn, the day will last all week.” And I say this: “If I wake up in Brooklyn, I can never be sad.” And if I am to wake up in Brooklyn I’d start with my secrets, but where have they been? Too dirty and wordy for your windowsill They’ll fall to the backyard like old Bad Luck Bill And if I am to wake up in the South Bronx I’d start with my shoes, but I can’t find my socks I’ll walk in bare feet downtown to Manhattan The day will last all year again

Get-get-get inside your spaceship You don't have a car, but you don't have to take this You'll jet up out the city like your favorite authors Look up at the stars, look up at the stars You're on the fast track, living from a backpack Leaving all the sad-sack suckers in the dust behind you This is how you roll, permanent vacation You put in your time, now you're out of patience You could really go, no one's gonna stop you You could really go, no one's gonna stop you You could really go, but now you're getting caught up in it Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute Think about your friends, think about your other friends Thinking about you when they can, probably wondering what happened to you Can't return a call, skipping every breakfast He tried to be a writer but instead he only fact-checks Out of shape and uninspired You force down salad and you just feel tired And wake up every day and spend it from the get-go Chewing on your thumb and staring out the window You could really go, no one's gonna stop you You could really go, no one's gonna stop you You could really go if you could spare the money But you're burning through your twenties for a misdirected, energetic Asshole living in a castle Waving ’round a brass pole with a little ball on top And barking like a tree, debating every sick day Storming through the office like Katrina on the fifth day Sitting with your pockets full of fists And you're staring at your wrists and your scissors and you're shaking so bad You don't have a car, but you don't have to take this So pack yourself a pair of socks and get inside a spaceship Daydream and think of the nights When they'll sing your name and they'll write it in lights When the daydream ends like a kick in the chest You can go out dancing and hope for the best But then you get so bored you're half-asleep The girls are jealous and the boys are cheap A circus of the stars, a battle of the sexes We're all in love with dying and we're doing it in taxes You could really go No one's gonna stop you But then you get that feeling, like a train-track killing Like an old-time villain in a silent movie Crying like a kid, squealing like a sex tape Shrieking like a Beatle fan and kicking like a sensei Sitting with your pockets full of fists and you're staring at your wrists And your shoulders, and they're aching so bad Now they're cutting care, now they're talking pay cut No one better dare ask you how your day was Please don't make me act it out, it's hard enough to talk about it I'll just rent my DVDs and watch my internet TV I'll bide my time and pay my rent till something knocks me to my senses When I've had enough of dying in the day shift I'll pack myself a pair of socks and get inside a spaceship

Before you leave the cape Was it everything you asked for When you wrote to ask if you could stay? A weekend is a time bomb A countdown on an iPhone An oldies station dedication day Oh my God, it’s really too bad you came We swore we’d stop, but it’s the only thing to keep us entertained I came up in July Stayed in your apartment Wondered what we’d have the nerve to try I’d say watch a movie But you threw out your TV The only resolution you stuck by Oh, I know, you’ve never been so ashamed Take heart, make love, just do it like you know my middle name Stay bright, learn what it’s like Kissing a Christian under her eyes Stay soft, cute when you cough What do you whisper when you get off? Stay slight, you’ve got a type I gotta practice, what do you like? It’s late now, figure it out It’s never too late to change It’s really not so far You didn’t have to walk me But grace is still a virtue And we’ve got ours to burn through We’re the only ones we have to blame

Say you like that song, I might still trust you Say you like that song, we’ve been writing names and numbers down Say you like that song, we just might have potential Say you like that song, please be honest Bad machine, get out, get clean Get close, get cut, bleed out, heal up Get gagged, get drugged, sixteen, get up That’s it, I’m done, I said I’m not your son Turn the jukebox down, we can sing this one together Say you like that song, we’ve been taking names and ages for granted Turn the jukebox down, turn that down, make the most of it Say you know your father, it’s just semiotics Bad machine, get out, get clean Look sad, roughed up, talk sweet, we won Get gagged, get drugged, sixteen, get up That’s it, I’m done, I said I’m not your son Pollen spreads around like flu Velazquez had a date with you He asks me what I think of you When I’m down in the (202) You jumped back when the bruise bled blue You jumped back when the still life moved You had no chance, you always knew The dead man in the dream was you The dead man in the dream is you Oh, I know you thought we’d get caught We just hung from the rafters Oh, when it got cold, we got bold Stretched you out like a dancer Please, eyes shut, bad dream, wake up That’s it, I’m done, that’s it, I’m done That’s it, I’m done, I said I’m not your son The dead man in the dream is you

Lynda Carter never cried when the bad men came She just looked them in the eyes and said, “Behave.” And our mothers gave us loving looks And covered us in comic books We’d write city symphonies in crayon on the edge of every page And the armies crawled across our linen sheets on Monday mornings When a touch of what was going around had come around to us And our newlywed, adoptive mothers Covered us in colored covers We watched I Love Lucy and were happier than we would dare to say Silver Surfers flew inside Of our windows every other night And we’d wake up imagining, we’d wake up imagining And solar flares and fireballs Would dance around the threadbare walls And set our tiny eyes ablaze With wonder at the things we thought we knew Lynda Carter never cried when the bad men came She’d just look them in the eyes and they’d behave And we’d have our toast with marmalade Drape sheets across our shoulder blades And raid the fridge for ice cream Till we heard the keychain jangling at the door And our unwed teenage mother Gave us one too many brothers But we wrapped him in a pillowcase and loved him all the same And when Tuesday came along We went back to singing spelling songs And Saturday was there before we knew it And we’d known it all along

We have our own apartments We have no wedding plans Our twenties are our twenties All loose lips and busy hands And all these pretty people make my cheeks all flushed and flattered Too many good friends and way too much to like, to like Like after-party sidewalk chats that last forever Like strands of hair that dance with pairs of eyes Sometimes it's hard to breathe Sometimes it feels like torture Shaking when you talk, blushing like a birthday girl Feeling strangely serious and filled with something dangerous I speak to you in circles We hear a good song, and laugh like something's funny Believe in something sweet and safe and uneventful And when it goes wrong, try to be surprised We gave up such a good thing For something we regret And in our sleep, we say our sorries And we try our best to take it back, but we don't have the heart for that I see how you inhale so fast and act so different There is a good friend trapped inside your body It's so easy to kiss eyelids in the dead of winter So hard to say I like you as a friend And now I don't know how to touch you So I take a clumsy guess The pieces fit; we made it out somehow Our coffee dates will end in coffee, and that'll be just fine for now