The loose-stringed bass, surfing guitar, and wind-up monkey drums remind me who i am

Large and enraged
bashing my lips together like cymbals
Words racing out of my mouth and crashing into everyone

Drunk on pain
hands curled into fists save 1 pointing finger
Take a good long look at what you’ve done to me

Violent head-bobs
my feet kicking and stomping to the beat
I’m mad as hell and i’m not gonna take it anymore

Sudden hard shove
careening across the floor and smack into the wall
Come on back because i’ve still got more in me

You aren’t them
but you’ll do as a stand-in and so will i
We’ll trade hits until they ask us to sit back down or leave

We bail and play chicken with friends and shopping carts in the parking lot of a Safeway

There isn’t one
Get it?

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