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• Artiste: Jawbreaker
• Titre: Condition Oakland
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I rode down to the tracks. Thinking they might sing to me. But they just stared back. Broken, trainless and black as night. Climbed out onto my roof. So I'd be a poet in the night. Beat the walls off my room. I saw the big room that is this life. This is my condition: Naked and hysterical, Reaching to grab a hand that I just slapped back at. This is my condition: Desperate, alone, Without an excuse. I try to explain. Christ, what's the use? Read and I felt so small. Some words keep speaking When you close the book. Drank and just about smiled. Then I remembered us in that bed. Put my ear to the door. I just heard hot rods and gunshots and sirens. People kill me these days. There's keys in their eyes But they lock from the inside