Target

It's not hard to visualize
That person [they can really vaporize?].
With daily bread comes daily sacrifice.
And you're waiting for the lightning
From that silent violent sky,
And your feet are wet,
You cant forget:
You're a target, you're a target
You're a target.
It's not difficult to picture
Sudden long and lucky years.
The seaman's bones should hide
Some shaking nerves,
And leave you swinging at the mirror
With a pair of silver scissors
Swinging at the mirror with a pair of silver scissors.
Because it hurts to belong to a face long.
And I'm ugly. I'm ugly.
I'm ugly.
You can't remember why you ever
Put flowers between the pages of your favoirte books.
You don't read any more, so you know
They're gone for good.
And you might never really learn
The law of diminishing returns.
You're smart enough to spit up
something,
And it burns, and it burns.
And it burns.