Wrong

My mouth works fine, but my brain won't allow it to speak
I feel all used up, dried out, disconnected, mind weak
I say things like "Cool, man", when I know that I've a lot more to say
But it's under my tongue in a rusty bucket, pressed beneath the bootheel of grey

Greyday you sonofabitch, you've robbed me of my humanity
I'd be more useful standing here, if I was a bareleaved winter tree
I can't connect with anyone, I should go back to bed and just stay
Until the bluesky drives away your stranglehold on me someday

Screamin' out what I can't say is making me feel all loose and frayed
Punch the wall, punch the clock, punch through the freezing rain
Kickin' and fightin' and biting off chunks of the loss that's taunting me
Write the wrongs down on a piece of shrapnel and let 'em bleed

Damn, I got lost in the third verse looking for a chorus
Give me the medication that they give a lame horse
Writing wrong won't stop the song that I'm still tryin' to sing
Is that chicken you got there, I'll take a wing