Young Man

Oh
Everybody knows
When he's feeling cold he takes a break or so I'm told
Blessed
Everyone is stressed
Never second-guessing any chapter that comes next
He must be wrecked

Nights
All he does is write
Following his empathy with strangers that he likes
Calm
Picture of a song
Happy as a child
Oh, all his adult choices wrong
He's too far gone

You've got somewhere to be
Covering the seams
The threaded pockets on his jeans
Oh, at the end of the day
Old personas change
And coexist some way

But they say
Take a little look at this young man
Take a little look at his face
He's got all his money in a dustpan
But damn is his music strange
Tell me it's real
Tell me it's fake
Fetch me every single grain of sand in the whole damn state
I heard this motherfucker didn't graduate
But damn is his music good

Quit
Why would someone quit?
After every fit he's writing something again
Smiles
Camera-flashin' style
File down the bars inside the jail, wail and whine

Oh, you've got somewhere to be
Covering the seams
The threaded pockets on his jeans, please
Oh, at the end of the day
Old personas change
And coexist some way

But they say
Take a little look at this young man
Take a little look at his face
He's got all his money in a dustpan
But damn is his music strange
Wait 'til he fails
Wait 'til he breaks
Wait 'til he's affected by the planets in the retrograde
He thinks he's Bob Dylan of the modern day but
He's got some work to do

Pull the plug, pull the plug
Pull the plug, pull the plug
Pull the plug, pull the plug
Pull the plug, pull the plug
Pull the plug, pull the plug (I say)
Pull
The Plug

Oh take a little look at this young man
Take a look at his fucked-up face
He eats like shit
He talks to quick
With no upper-body strength
He wrote a song
Isn't it strange?
Shouldn't he be making coffee at a dumbed-down wage?
Two thumbs down on his run-down page
But damn is this song alright