In Fact - They Might Be Giants

I’m a mess

Even at my best

I’m dismantling my chances

Even as I win

A bunch

I got tripwires to finesse

I’m a mess

Now I ain’t right

If there’s a test tonight

I will ask for an extension

As I slide my desk

A bit

Toward the conman dressed in white

I ain’t right

In fact it’s messier still

That mess is a hook that drags me along

And now that mess has an entourage

All dressed in dungarees

What went wrong?

I confess

And like a chess piece, yes

I have rolled under your piano

That you don’t play

A lot

But I’m sorry, I digress

I’m a mess

So let me out

Don’t want to be your mouse

I want to find a softer spot

For my crash landing

Not much to talk about

Let me out

In fact it’s messier still

That mess on the loose and leading the mob

They march with pitchforks and torches now

They have your old ID disavow