I built myself a house of matches, but when I went to light my pipe The tips got lit and everything burnt to a crisp And now most nights I shiver alone Couch surfing, each night in a different home But I never felt welcome, just cold The habit I adapted to has got old Fairly quickly, and despite what I was told I kept playing with fire till my house turned to smolders Now the anchor on my back Is the equivalent to a train derailed from its tracks Headed for me, ignoring the plausible excuses For the cause of withering confusion I have a case of blues, and my house is past tense It’s gone now, and I’ve been mad since I’m a gullible fucker thinking they wouldn’t catch I feel foolish begging “spare a match” Spare a match? Spare a match? Spare a match? Spare a match? I nearly had it, but then I awoke Just to find out I’m still just an ordinary bloke And I’m starting to choke Cuz the world is beginning to smell like cheap vodka and cigarette smoke I relieve the tension in my soul with a subtle shake Never giving notice to the judgments that others make Sane cuz the home I was built in wasn’t made of matches So no worry it collapses Why am I affected by this collection Of defective memories granting affection I could say I’ve seen a lot, and these days it’s true Done some things I never thought I would do I just write music and awkwardly wait For people to give a fuck about the things I say I don’t believe in religion, God is a woman Who made the world just to spread gossip across it Spare a match? Spare a match? Spare a match? Spare a match? The universe is just a big pile of nonsense That only makes sense to people who should talk less Its true knowledge can make a man grow But there some shit I think its better off we don’t know And ever so emphatically I treat my emotions like a battery actually Reacting to the booze and the lines I just can’t adapt to the new modern times But I try, and I voice my opinions Been doing so for years even though you don’t listen And blame, well who am I to blame? 
I’m afraid of staying the same, and even more of change I’m cold and my layers are shedding Can’t retreat to under no bedding Because my house is burnt down, I’m alone as well And my thoughts are beginning to swell I used to have a house until the day I toked some weed 
And missed my ashtray, and now I’m living on the streets
 So cold and alone, I want a home, and there’s no catch
 So do you think you could spare a match?

All this materialism is turning my noggin to Swiss cheese Catapulting info to every direction Captures distinctions, giving me locked knees Words without thought’s like sex without affection Burned into my brain, hook the Novocain into my body I will willingly let it harm me Heat stroke, a keep hold of journeys and travels What will become of me when my memories unravel? In attempts to capture, you can’t hold hope in a jar It can’t be freed, saying it can won’t get you far Starved of the purity and guilt Which feeds the gaping holes on the corners of my head And instead of sorry’s, we could all just get along Wouldn’t that be picture perfect? But that’s not the purpose pictures serve When bitterness occurs, you can choose to get disturbed Or you could build a better earth Chilling with the buds and droogs Eating up the world on our forks and spoons Domes rising up like a damn balloon The sort of thing a head simply can’t construe Trying to figure out, really what is the point? Is really our separated heads conjoined? More than a flip of coins I am getting annoyed Oh my dear… Call this the year of the hash-tag, number sign planet Got to lose weight for this summertime panic Another lie tragic, makes me do back flips Half are silicon chip planted or plastic Cocaine, adderall, gotta be balling Got to go all in, or else you are no one Getting hash-tag lifted is so fun You’re young “but I only am once…so what” This earth’s axis is slightly off tilt Or so you would think from its habitant’s guilt Soon we’ll be breathing by gill This hash-tag planet, our inhabitants kill Chilling with the buds and droogs Eating up the world on our forks and spoons Domes rising up like a damn balloon The sort of thing a head simply can’t construe

Disappearing in the fog of a thick thought Where we would lose ourselves in memories and drift off Maybe smile or maybe give our head knots Wondering at precisely what moment did we get lost? It seems life is what happens between blinks Hard drugs and strong drinks, knowing it all sinks Swallow it; wallow in it, whatever you choose It takes everything I do just to keep up with the noose… We will leave when the time is right Sharp teeth will cut the flesh of the night Born with the burden of blood in our minds We’re leaving a ghost behind Go ahead and fold me up, put me in your pocket Wish something up, but don’t depend on luck Cuz everything can disappear by a quick gust It’s bigger than the biggest heart but can fit inside a locket Hold it to your ear, the ocean sounds dried up Submerged long enough, you cannot fight rust And when you lift your fingertips limp, hold it and lift up And drift away; be careful you don’t drop it You can fold me up, and put me in your pocket Carry me away; I won’t say a damn thing Or you can take me out and prepare to unfold me Looking at you, I’ll be in the same place We will leave when the time is right Sharp teeth will cut the flesh of the night Born with the burden of blood in our minds We’re leaving a ghost behind

Wrapped around bones, all that you know The flesh hanging off you is colder than snow Ketamine in, community out You mean to tell me throwing up is what beauty’s about It makes the fluid in my joints curdle Even kids in Vic these days are getting murdered These capes over my eyes are getting mileage Imagine a hindsight void of all violence Watching limbs that are on trees fall off At even slightest breezes Call it the cycle, the indeterminable web I said, hence the emancipation I meant Probably went unheard like a threat When lips connect, we say it isn’t the same as - In terms of emotion - what paint has? Push aside the larger pic Your life is what you, the author, did So you better honour it You got pride, don’t choke on the cartilage Jabbed into a heart, sticking out the left side Arteries sway with the moon in a red tide And the palpitations Stutter so slow, emotions grow vacant The muscle in your throat gets thick And every time you swallow it clicks Like a metronome Selling hope in a hellish home, where goosebumps are reg And feelings are fragile as eggs You don’t give hands, you give fists instead So go get a moment, and make it memories With a positive tendency Used to wonder what would better she And it wasn’t the ecstasy, or seeing penitentiaries Unraveling the layers of a being can hurt But in the process it’s well worth it Push aside the larger pic Your life is what you, the author, did So you better honour it You got pride, don’t choke on the cartilage When the pristine summer suddenly separates you From a glistening mind state hovering with you You salivate on your nails to the mere thought Of again seeing textures and trails An artificial development of irrelevance in the form Of a treasure chest beating beneath a weathered breast One can only merge to another for so long Before that attachment via cuddle goes gone The speaking shell of this is no exception You can fluster all you try but it will get you nowhere Despite the was-then’s that brought you that ascension Some things just aren’t to be, you can’t grow air Push aside the larger pic Your life is what you, the author, did So you better honour it You got pride, don’t choke on the cartilage

My lungs don’t pulse like they used to Just another silk sheet to move through Watching my paper-toned skin turn blue Past-self; I didn’t mean to hurt you I love these layers I stopped believing; as a kid, nobody heard my prayers Maybe no one cared or I didn’t think loud enough We all have confessions we aren’t proud to clutch Forever unclenching the last bit of consequence The sort of things we all forget I’m either too sober, or too far gone To evaporate the ghosts I have drawn It’s like drawing a circle in the dirt It doesn’t last long, but it’s well what its worth The things no person’s immune to Just another silk sheet to move through Ghost of mine, won’t you come out From in my head through my mouth I am speaking I am speaking through you. There’s a ringing in my ear Another melancholy melody that’s singing to my fears You are what you’ve lost More than another body of water to walk across In a stupor of half awakeness The sounds in my head are trying my patience Nothing spells vulnerable like physicality Death is one of those set realities You can misspell loneliness solitude Or you could let your emptiness swallow you Speaking quiet’s the sound of hope Watching my words burst into clouds of smoke I wouldn’t know courage if was put in front of me Don’t even try describing me in a summary It’s the things no person’s immune to Just another silk sheet to move through Ghost of mine, won’t you come out From in my head through my mouth I am speaking I am speaking through you.

This is the place I’ve lived my whole life Dredged underneath Victoria’s skyline I have the face of my father, with the thoughts of my mother Once the trust of my lover I remember when I used to smoke weed Getting high in the shadows of trees But I guess things change, and so do people But I try not to put the past up on a steeple I’ll never be as handsome as some folks The kind who spend their lives playing tug rope Maintaining a slump hope and a slugging posture I wonder if I’ll ever be a father I remember I thought I was immortal My fantasy life got sucked in a portal Called reality on the day my grand-pop died I realized we’re all going to die Feeling my heart strings getting plucked To the tune of me as a child pressing his luck You don’t appreciate arms Until you can’t hug a loved one anymore cuz they’re gone Do you remember when times were simple? When our smiles were real and we were children Watching you watching me killing myself And it’s killing us both Cuz why else do we surround ourselves with people who hurt us I know who I need and who is worth it Although I doubt I have a purpose I’m going to keep searching Underneath Victoria skies I’ve been high, I’ve cried I’ve seen people die I’ve thought I’d had enough I’ve fallen in love I had my first kiss, I’ve made regrets Everything that’s happened in my life Happened under Victoria’s skies Done some things bad done some things good Done some things bad done some things good

Littlest eclipse, fading of the eyes Underneath my flesh, elegant surprise Said to take a hit, burning in my mind Maybe wasn’t meant, hurting me inside Thought it wasn’t real, sudden burst of heat Needles I could feel, something underneath Coming to the surface, no choice but to breathe Taking over me, then it set me free… Cracked wide, and its hurting me Half glide, it is surfacing Past sights, are returning and Now I find it’s disturbing Have I really found myself? Have I really found myself? Have I really found myself? I don’t really know what I’m searching for I don’t know what I am, I don’t want to soar Bring me down, bring me down Bring me down, then I started floating No measurement of calibrated madness can paint this Never before, never again To experience such a distant thing from basics It was beautifully scary, it still haunts me, wonder how to make it Go away, but then again my brain Hasn’t worked the same way since I took a step out of my body into the salvia scape Not sure if I’ll ever again become fully stitched in The separation of consciousness from the body’s shell In the form of a rowboat exiting the face backwards The separation of consciousness from the body’s shell In the form of a rowboat... Was it even worth it when the person on the surface bursted Buckled from the pressure and the energy and strength of but a legal plant Sitting on a feeble planet When the fractal patterns become everything around you And then consume you and spit you out And you are left to wonder what it was And was it worth it But anybody who has a working brain would say yes