I left a mess about

and it follows me in ghostly footprints

all the places that I go.

I left a mess about and

sometimes I try to wipe it up

with those super unabsorbant

memory tricks of mine.

I left a mess about and, you know,

sometimes I wonder if it bounced before

it broke.

Sometimes I wonder if I threw it

into the wall and

sometimes I wonder if it

rolled down the street a bit

before coming to a halt.

I left a mess about and

I swept it under the rug and

and I moved out

’cause some messes

I guess

you can’t clean up.

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