Hatred
   I hate the past
  
   I can't see anything at all, all I see is me
   that's clear enough
   and that's whats important, to see me
  
   my eyes can focus
   my brain is talking
   looks pretty good to me
   my head's on straight, my girlfriend's beautiful
   looks pretty good to me
  
   sometimes I speak
   tonight there's nothing to say
   sometimes we freak
   and laugh all day
  
   hold these pages up to the light
   see the jacknife inside of the dream
   a railroad runs through the record stores at night
   coming in for the deep freeze
  
   Mary: a simple word, are you there in the country?
   Yr eyes so full, yr head so tight
   can't you hear me?
   Remember our talk
   that day on the phone?
   I was the door, and you were the station
   with shattered glass and miles between us
   we still flew away in the conversation
  
   my cup is full, and I feel okay
   the world is dull, but not today
  
   she think's she's a goddess
   she says she talks to the spirits
   I wonder if she can talk to herself?
   If she can bear to hear it?
  
   this is Eric's trip
   we've all come to watch him slip
   he's slipping all the way to Texas
   can you dig it?
  
   (Eric says "The sky is blue...")
   I see with a glass eye
   the pavement view
   a shadow forming, across the fields rushing
   thru me to you
  
   we tore down the world, and put up four walls
   I breathe in the myth
   I'm over the city, fucking the future
   I'm high and inside yr kiss
  
   we can't see clear
   but what we see is a alright
   we make up what we can't hear
   and then we sing all night
  
   scattered pages and shattered lights
   a jacknife and a dream
   there's something moving over there on the right
   like nothing I've never seen