and yr bird is green

but you can't see me, you can't see me


this is supposed to be the comfort zone. i am supposed to be able to come home to support. i get the opposite. i am whinging, i know. it's not as bad as you say it is justine, it's not their fault justine, that's just the thing. i get home and it's my fault. instantly. and you say things have changed. and your bird can sing.

and you're lying.


oh, and i am getting sick and frustrated and... no, not getting. gotten. it has been here for a while now, festering away. but suddenly it's in the back of my throat and it comes on like a slow storm. i hear the voices i feel no love from them. they do not reach out to me.
this is the price you pay for tuning in (fortuning in).


tune out
(but you don't hear me
you don't hear me)