Studied for your driving test
With your father through the prison visit window.
He'd show you the way of the open road.
Signing signals through the glass,
Good luck from your dear old dad.
Like the dirty dishes in your sink,
And the way they haunt you.
Like the mold in your room
And the way it makes you too sick to move.
It's the puke on your shoes,
Scar tissue reminder for you.