Till My Head Falls Off

There were eighty-seven advil in the bottle now there's thirty left.

I ate forty-seven so what happened to other ten?

Why do you suspiciously change the subject and break my concentration

as I dump the bottle out and I count the advil up again.



Don't interrupt me as I struggle to complete this thought.

Have some respect for someone more forgetful than yourself.



And I'm not done,

and I won't be till my head falls off.



Feeling every pocket on my shirt that's an over coat.

I'm feeling them again but I don't know where I put my notes.

Clearing my throat and gripping the lecturn,

I smile and face my audience clearing it's throat and smiling

with it's hand on the bathroom sink.



And when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall,

I see stuff through the glass that I don't recognise at all.



And I'm not done,

And I won't be till my head falls off,

Though it may not be a long way off.



I'm not done talking yet.

I'm not done talking.



and when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall,

I see a broken figure silhouetted on the wall.



And I'm not done, and I won't be till my head falls off.

Though it may not be a long way off,

I won't be done until my head falls off.