Stark - Matchsticks lyrics

He resides on the corner of drunk and desperation When your home life is vacant there's no need to take a vacation People point and call him vagrant, he prefers to be called a nomad But it's sunny out today and the whiskey glow's not so bad He takes a slow drag from his hand rolled cigarette Stains adorn his clothes and beard, a mask to hide his intellect How could he forget about the better days and subplots? You see: It's easy to get caught between starvation and gut rot His mother told him not what to do as a child; "Never let your pride get defiled" she said, then shot him an awkward smile It's been a while since he caught the hidden meaning in her words But now he knows what she knew then, so he laughs at the absurd Life is just a word, you can take it or leave it He's standing in the middle watching mother nature's cleavage And he can't believe it: An egg sandwich with extra pepper! Cancer stole his vocal chords so now he's writing letters There's no eraser on the back of a matchstick No eraser on the back of a matchstick, ain't it tragic? There's no eraser on the back of a matchstick No eraser on the back of a matchstick, ain't it tragic? There's no eraser on the back of a matchstick But we can't all be magic So he rode through that desert on a horse with a name The problem is he forgot it, it seems he'd rather change the topic Not to stop the conversation, or to start a confrontation (It) Seems he's trying to refrain from living a life of frustration So stay patient 'cause he might get to the point soon After he rolls another joint, sits back and enjoys doom You see: It's coming at high noon; who knows what that means? While we read between the lines this dude has already lost his dreams It seems I heard the music stop or change, it's kinda strange I remember it like it was yesterday, what a cliche He came to my home to speak to my father alone His voice box sounded like a broken microphone, so monotone When he left alone, he had no tears in his eyes to speak of After a week of not seeing him he finally got clean cut Laying in a casket, it seems at last it's time to rest my friend I haven't known many good men, but we buried the best of them There's no eraser on the back of a matchstick No eraser on the back of a matchstick, ain't it tragic? There's no eraser on the back of a matchstick No eraser on the back of a matchstick, ain't it tragic? There's no eraser on the back of a matchstick But we can't all be magic