Walrus ft. Benway Lyrics

What I Want You To Know Is This

There Are Times I Am Terrified Of Seeing You

There Are Mornings

The Sun Feels Like A Sucker Punch

There Are Nights I Fall Asleep

Praying That You Don't Remember Me

For The Demolition Evidence

For The Missed Calls And The Medicine

There Are Dreams

Where I No Longer Play Victim

There Is A Bed Edge Worn Thin

There Are Countless Blank Pages

That Do Not Say How I'm Feeling

There Is Silence Like Siren

I Haven't Even Learned How To Say That Shit

Without Trying To Sound Cool About It

Truth Is On Most Days I'm Certain You're Pitching My Pyre

See What I Mean

What I Meant To Say Is That On Most Days

I've Got To Run A Tough Mudder

Just To Convince Myself I Haven't Let You Down

I've Got A Bum Hip, A Dull Foot

And Way More Meat On The Bone Than I Oughtta

It Is An Undisputed Religious Experience

Every I Time Cross The Finish Line

Collapsing In The Gravity Of Your Hallelujah

You Really Like Me

Even Covered In All This Mud

You Said It Looked Like A Baptism

Despite The Inheritance

That Has Been Stored Up

In Your Unconditional Cheek-to-shining-cheek

I Still Wear Coins In My Shoes

For Every Inevitable Rescue Call

Scrambling To Identify

The Exact Intersection Of This Break Down

What You Don't Know About Me

Is That I'm Terrified To Be Here

In This Skin

The First Poem I Ever Wrote Was In 1990

I Was 10 Years Old

5th Grade

I Remember Some Poet Came To Visit Our Classroom

I Couldn't Tell You His Name

But I Remember That He Looked Terrified To Be There

I Liked That About Him

I Didn't Think Adults Got Scared

Most Of The Rest Of That Memory Is Gone Wherever Memories Go

I Do Remember Being Asked To Write A Poem

He Taught Us About Simile

A Figure Of Speech Involving The Comparison Of One Thing

With Another Thing Of A Different Kind

Used To Make A Description More Emphatic

I'm Alone In Another New Home

Where This Newly Trauma'd Doughy Identity

Rapidly Developing Limiting Beliefs And Deficiency Stories

Lays On The August Floor

Praying To The Altar Of An Oscillating Fan

For Mercy That A Cruel Summer Never Delivered

Remembering The Wisdom Of The Oscillating Fan

And Now Newly Armed With Simile

I Wrote 12 Words

That Would Soon Move From Paper To Mouth

When I Was Called To Share And I Read

My Life Is Like Fan Blades

Turning And Turning

Never Getting Rest

I Sat Up Straight And Took My Rightful Place

In The Felt Presence Of Being Witnessed

But I Remember Laying There

Like A Wounded Walrus

In The Chowder Thick Long Island Humidity

A Fat Kid Who Had Been To A New School For Every Grade

Whose Mom Left His Dad

Which Only Translated To Her Leaving Him

And Not Understanding Any Of It

Watching The Fan Blades Spin In Perfect Chaos

On Demand Trying Its Best To Bring Comfort

Being No Match For The Ocean Of Atmosphere Before It

Finding Empathy For The Propulsion And Respect For The Devotion

Because That Fan

My Life

Was Doing It's Best To Do The Thing It Left The Factory Designed To Do

I Don't Think Either Of Us Thought There Would Be Such Little Rest

Or So Much Dust

What I want you to know is this

There are times I am terrified of seeing you

There are mornings

The sun feels like a sucker punch

There are nights I fall asleep

Praying that you don't remember me

For the demolition evidence

For the missed calls and the medicine

There are dreams

Where I no longer play victim

There is a bed edge worn thin

There are countless blank pages

That do not say how I'm feeling

There is silence like siren

I haven't even learned how to say that shit

Without trying to sound cool about it

Truth is on most days I'm certain you're pitching my pyre

See what I mean

What I meant to say is that on most days

I've got to run a Tough Mudder

Just to convince myself I haven't let you down

I've got a bum hip, a dull foot

And way more meat on the bone than I oughtta

It is an undisputed religious experience

Every I time cross the finish line

Collapsing in the gravity of your hallelujah

You really like me

Even covered in all this mud

You said it looked like a baptism

Despite the inheritance

That has been stored up

In your unconditional cheek-to-shining-cheek

I still wear coins in my shoes

For every inevitable rescue call

Scrambling to identify

The exact intersection of this break down

What you don't know about me

Is that I'm terrified to be here

In this skin

The first poem I ever wrote was in 1990

I was 10 years old

5th grade

I remember some poet came to visit our classroom

I couldn't tell you his name

But I remember that he looked terrified to be there

I liked that about him

I didn't think adults got scared

Most of the rest of that memory is gone wherever memories go

I do remember being asked to write a poem

He taught us about simile

A figure of speech involving the comparison of one thing

With another thing of a different kind

Used to make a description more emphatic

I'm alone in another new home

Where this newly trauma'd doughy identity

Rapidly developing limiting beliefs and deficiency stories

Lays on the august floor

Praying to the altar of an oscillating fan

For mercy that a cruel summer never delivered

Remembering the wisdom of the oscillating fan

And now newly armed with simile

I wrote 12 words

That would soon move from paper to mouth

When I was called to share and I read

My life is like fan blades¬¬¬¬

Turning and turning

Never getting rest

I sat up straight and took my rightful place

In the felt presence of being witnessed

But I remember laying there

Like a wounded walrus

In the chowder thick Long Island humidity

A fat kid who had been to a new school for every grade

Whose mom left his dad

Which only translated to her leaving him

And not understanding any of it

Watching the fan blades spin in perfect chaos

On demand trying its best to bring comfort

Being no match for the ocean of atmosphere before it

Finding empathy for the propulsion and respect for the devotion

Because that fan

My life

Was doing it's best to do the thing it left the factory designed to do

I don't think either of us thought there would be such little rest

Or so much dust

What you don't know about me is that I'm terrified to be here

What You Don't Know About Me Is That I'm Terrified To Be Here