Becoming Myself Again (Post-Truth) -

Taking pictures of her bloody nose, in the ladies room

Pulling her hair behind her ears, just to hide the proof, spray some perfume

You can walk outside one at a time, her after you

Just turn the light off and remove the residue

Dirty hands and dirty fingernails, in a college bar

Winstons and twenty-four ounce cans, of Labatt Blue, I think he’s had a few

Too many one night stands, to stand up and salute

It’s another moment in a night, under a moon

It is the only way to prove

You can live in post-truth

In this society

In th red, white, and the blu

It’s a mirror, the screen in front of you

If I am alive, it’s really only half of the time

The other half, I’m sucking air

If I leave, I would leave in an immaculate way

In a way that helps to understand

That I’m Becoming Myself Again

Telepathic guru of the streets, she’s a movie scene

Calculated markets dictating, who lives and sleeps, who fucking eats

Inside a penthouse, underground, and underneath

We’re swiping credit cards to satisfy your needs

It’s the only way to prove