Pinhead Gunpowder 27
I'm not seventeen
And going on nowhere fast
A decade lost in the East Bay fog
Birthday cards thrown in the trash
Last year's calender
On the wall,collecting dust
My friends all say to tear it down
But instead I'll leave it up
And now I'm 27
Driving to the 7-11
When I turn 28
Will I end up losing faith?
Promises decayed
On expiration dates
New Year's resolutions sold
To bums out on the street
What was it all worth?
And was it worth the while?
Lost and found and ten years down
And torched into the ground
Will I stand in line
When I turn 29?
But now I'll take a number
And it reads 27
