I thought about the wicker bar Heavy rain i pine for Used to set my birthday as my PIN Red string, cork board, tacks: it's the place i'm in I thought about the school's rules of which i had no clue: To cross my legs when i sat down And move across the hallway when september comes around It came around: "can i please come around?" And i thought about that painting Primary colours splashed over corrugated card It looked quite hard And i thought about my bust mitral valve It pumps forty-two million times, year round And i suppose i broke my heart in a literal sense Back row kings, benched And i wondered if i still had the chance to spout my defiance to the skies Dukakis tanked; lost track and tread I was broke but i'm on the mend The shape i'll leave when i'm gone will not stand without me That empty shell will collapse on itself