The list of things I used to be is longer than the list of things I am
Ex-lover, ex-friend
Ex-communicated atheist and an ex-patriot
Living in the heartland
Living on the small chance
Luck would save the last dance
For an underrated writer, overrated rapper
Undecided major on an unrelated matter
One day I'd like to say what all the tug-o'-war was for
More than slack rope, more than sun stroke
Them rum soaked in sad jokes at rap shows
Some folks know how slow that trap closes
Prose is closest I've ever been to feeling like I found it
I'm not a writer I just drink a lot about it
If diamonds are a girl's best friend
Then you can share a fine laugh
And you can send me back to the bottom of the mineshaft

I've been here before and I know where it goes
It goes down

Snow falls fast and thin
Angels ash Virginia Slims
And if we've come a long way then I suspect it's sideways, further from our origin
No closer to our destination
I'm bad with names, shit, I'm bad with faces
I'm bad with bills and little kids and well-lit places
I'm beginning to write like Anna Karenina, give me a minute, a mic
A little to like, get rid of the spite, a bit of the pride to fight
You tried, you're right fried (you're live on all lines)
You're tired, you're fired
You're inside of the lie
It's a brilliant design
It's like, "Just act surprised"
I lost some money on the weighted dice
I lost an octave to the Camel Lights
And when I lost you, I lost some good love and a hand to bite
I've been here before and I know where it goes
It goes down

The plans that we made and the bills and the planes over downtown