E5            B5             G5                 F5
Boys run like water from the barrel to the trough.
F5                                     
They'll never stop their running.
B5                G5            B5   G5
Gunning for their brothers.
E5              B5
This house is a hostel.
G5                   F5
It is peaceful, but it's always emptying.
B5             G5           B5  G5
Boys all want to be someone.

B5          E5            G5           F5
Haven't you heard? I am a flightless bird.
F5           B5              G5              B5    G5  
I am a liar, feeding facts to a false fire.
B5           E5                  G5    F5
If pathos is borne, borne out of bullshit--in formal attire,      
B5             G5                  B5   G5
I'll score you a string ensemble.

B5  E5  G5  F5  B5  G5  B5  G5

E5                    B5
I saw my son at seventeen,
  G5                     F5                         B5 G5 B5  G5
The shutters made projections on his naked frame.
E5            B5
Now at twenty-five,
     G5                 F5                          B5   G5  B5  G5
He simply cannot stay away from the ketamine.
E5                 B5
With makeup on his sores,
     G5              F5                             B5  G5  B5  G5
He spends an hour a day composing little eulogies.
E5                                 B5
Sometimes he sends me letters,
           G5            F5                          B5  G5  B5 G5
But it's mostly garbled phrases and apologies.

B5          E5            G5           F5
Haven't you heard? I am a flightless bird.
F5            B5              G5              B5    G5  
I am a liar, feeding facts to a false fire.
B5             E5                G5    F5
If pathos is borne, borne out of bullshit--in formal attire,
B5                       G5       B5  G5
Cue the Bulgarian men's choir.