Dylan Seeger - Maudlin

When you were young
You'd knot your tongue
Whilst you were hung
Twiddling your thumbs
Amongst those you considered bums
Whose time had surely come

As if you knew any better
Although you were fettered
Perhaps if you would have let her
Set her things down to grab her keys
Surely, she would have been pleased
To unchain you

Unchained from the being
That you had tried fleeing too soon
As you were still peeing your sheets
Not yet cooking your eats
Or out on the streets
Collecting receipts
In order to keep your seat at the table

Oh, the privilege of childhood rings
To the sound of melancholy strings
But now I, with my wings, ask
"Why would I ever lust to cling to you?"

When you were a teen
You were so obscene
Seemingly opposed to good hygiene
Somewhere in between filthy and clean
If you'd have lifted your head up from the screen
Maybe you could have impressed them

Was it time for an antidepressant double?
For in the midst of the adolescent rubble
Was an incandescent bubble that flickered
You poked it 'til its light went out
Though you knew without doubt
That such a move would not be welcomed

But then again, you were discontent
Instant regrets of the afternoon spent
Slitting your wrists on compact discs
An indulgent faggot ignorant of the risks
Though I've since learned to forgive

Maybe it was the burgeoning taste for caffeine
Or the way you balked at "the machine"
As you crawled towards eighteen
That made you covet the attention

Oh, the wasteland of the puberty years
Through the thirstiest of tears
Before the dirty became clear
And now I, in control of my own gears
Say good riddance

Later on, you hit your stride
A few brief years with eyes wide
And nothing to hide
Entirely applied to the beauty
Which surrounds us

I've learned
How quickly shits turn to glitz
Once one admits
That things could be worse
And that neither a scar nor a curse
Will destroy you

Is it merely greed
To have everything I need
With healthy blood to bleed
Vegetables to eat
And shoes tied to my feet
But a hunger for omissions?

Oh, to be nineteen
Lean and mean
With nothing to lose
All there is to choose from
And now I, four years loose
Have nothing more that I am due

When I was on my way here
I stopped by the pier
The East River looking clear
For the first time in years

So elated, I swept a frigid tear
To the side of my left ear
A sightseer perched on a bench, so near
"There's nothing to see here," I said
As I contemplated jumping in

But my memory, it interrupted
Recollections of you
Standing on a dock for the first time
In my head is a mother of mine
Who tucks me into bed at night
And convinces me to be all right

I never see her coming
Until she opens up the closet door
From above the basement floor
The sounds of her longing roar
And from her cultivated pores
Is something more than I could ask for

Oh, the mystery of sentimentality
How impossible it seems
To just let history be
Without regurgitating dreams
And now I, with my myriad schemes
Should have no trouble leaving you behind

Written by:
Dylan Seeger

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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