The Fine Art of Self-Destruction - Jesse Malin

I’m a witness to the sickness

In a place I call my home

On the weekend hit the deep end

With the secrets that I own

Like an old song with a new girl

She never gets the jokes

But you need her so you bleed her

For the image it evokes

Lonely process

Only process

I will make it up to you

Took a long walk

For a tall boy

Sinking down in the couch

Playing new wave like the old days

Put the barrel in your mouth

Like a sad man when he’s deadpan

Never knew a work of art

Or a father with his children

A marriage that blew apart

Lonely process

Only process

I will make it up

I will take it up to you

Oh the old time TV movies

Thinking you got it made

Like a dancer with a desk job

A dee-jay with a list to play

I’m an old whore

In a thrift store

Looking for something black

Like a bad dream when you come clean

Hoping that you’ll come back

Lonely process

Only process

I will make it up to you