Trying to find you, old friend.
Seems like you never want to attend
The blackened streets
That fill my mind
The party is in the front seat
And you’re copped out in the backseat
You’re like a mendacious friend, that said
they were there ’til the end
Where did you go, self worth?
Have you left my Earth?
Answer me this, self worth,
When will you come back?
When I’m lying on my back,
Approximately after shotgun blast?
It’s too late, self worth.
Maybe it’s my fault, since birth.
It’s a sin to feel these things,
For a homespun country girl.
So go look in the mirror, homespun country girl.
And try to convince yourself that it hasn’t gone awhirl.
But I’m just too busy playing dead to act like I’m alive. ***