Overhyped Kit Cats

They said you were full of promise,
Of talents, wonders galore,
And they swore you'd rise to the occasion,
That I would need no consolation.
But you know, soothseers can be wrong,
For they apparently are only as right as me,
For you see, these overhyped kit cats
Really have a hold on me.

My compadres tell me that there will be another day,
But now, I feel, would've been as good as tomorrow.
History writes books, and today isn't looking good,
Or yesterday, or the past several years drawn.
Look at what needs to be met, thoses promises,
All that good stuff you, friend, said, would come to pass.
Yesterday, today, tomorrow, it all really matters,
But those overhyped kit cats simply won't reach their star.

Scratch, Sniff and Stare

Yesterday, I was a little boy,
But now, I find myself in a body I do not know.
It seems my body has grown in size,
Something my brain hasn't done.
All my old friends from the day
Are off to the races,
And all I do is sit here, scratch, sniff and stare.

I think of all the things I should be doing,
Of all the things that I am not.
Indeed, my body seems doomed to rot.
Somehow, I need to catch up with my people,
For I don't want to be left behind,
For they're off to the races,
While all I do is scratch, sniff and stare.

Whether it's getting that diploma
Or working for my wages,
Walking down love's blissful aisle
Or having a baby child,
I need to stand up and be tall.
I need to be off to the races
And not scratch, sniff and stare.

A Day Worth Running From

Everyday, when I wake up in the morning,
I dread the day ahead when I have to deal with the world.
Oh, the gleeful loneliness of the path I tread,
Veins, ice cold but red,
But I'll never give an inch of my own turf,
No, never, not even on the day of my demise.
They say all little boys should play with the other children,
That that is the way to salvation and fun,
But all I see is a day worth running from.

Well, what do you know but the sky is blue,
And that means, of course, the sun's out, too.
I just think that's disgusting to have to face,
You know what I mean?
I beseech the matter around to let me be.
But, it's all for wrought, and I'll never be free,
Free to make this a day worth running from.

People who pathetically claim to be my friends
Want my attention, but I must say, "No,
No more games for us, dear acquaintances,
Just be gone. Be gone."
I like the confines of my room,
Not all that outside doom and gloom,
The damnation of the outside exposition.
So, if you are from the outer limits of space,
I'll never let you see my face,
Because this is a day worth running from.