Mean Reds
Got a fat glass of red. Bad for me but — what the fuck. Grinding it down. I’m sick of it, all of it. An ocean of waste. I never mattered. It never mattered. ”Exterminate all rational thought,” the man said. I see what he meant. I can taste it. Erase me. It will still be the same anyway. Such hilarity. I really really don’t matter. It’s glorious. All this time and imagery. So silly.
Please forget the words that I just blurted out.
It wasn’t me, it was my strange and creeping doubt.
It keeps rattling my cage, and there’s nothing in this world will keep it down.Even though I might, even though I try,
I can’t.
I Can’t – Radiohead