Truth Of The Matter ~ Year Of First's

Pamme Swan
Pamme Swan


Written after the death of my father at the complete end of my rope.


The bank wants a pay stub

Its the slowest time of the year

Just want to build me a little hide way 

In which I can disappear

Cause I'm a mess

I guess

Truth of the matter is


This old house grows dirt 

The floors need sanding down

My whole life needs painting 

And I don't want to be found


Get me some of this

See you all around


Just when you think you nailed it 

Theres somebody better than you

Its gotta be the right shade of yellow

Or a sadder hue of blue

Struggling on this scene 

All these years has been freaking hard

Some scum broke the window

Stole my Martin Guitar

Well F this 

On That 

Truth of the matter is


My x's second divorce 

Turned into a baby on the way

My kids are his kids 

He barely gives them the time of day

More or less

He's an ass 

So selfish


My dad's dead, my dogs dead

I'm tired of grieving

Screw that happy balloon ride

Don't stay mad I get even

Don't stay pissed 

Screw bitternes

Move on eventually


 My birth week is coming up 

I hear 50 is the new 40

What the hell am I supposed to look like

Feminine or sporty

I'd like to trade my old man in

For a Charles or a Raul

But my friends are all gay

And insist I get a tool

Oh goodness gracious 

I wouldn't know what to do with it


Theres a dump the size of Texas

Floating out in the sea

Everyday round here is Christmas

With all this packaging

The worlds a mess

Don't second guess

We're all guilty


I'd like to melt down all the plastic

Flood all the streets

Mold everyone a kayak 

Kiss my wake wouldn't that be sweet

Inner bliss




 I'm a plane thats been hijacked

Flying real close to the ground

Heavy and life smacked

Window shades all pulled down

Cause I'm a mess

I confess

Truth of the matter is

Cause I'm a mess 

I confess

Truth of the matter is…..

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Come Hither