Wanting Things Makes You Shittier

I used to bend the will of rivers
And send them flooding in the fields where delicate things grew
I never noticed above
Dark rain clouds like bruises in the sky
I kept my eye on the prize
I ground down to the gum
Milky young teeth at the bit
My whole world was in my room
Playing both sides of a magic game
Blackbirds scream
And a bootleg Maxell tape for Queen
Some wooden animals and lockets of wheat
A string of garlic hanging from my ceiling
To keep Dracula away
I never saw him anyway
And that's good enough for me
'Cause I'm always wrong before I'm right