Writer's Block Schmiter's Block

So my New Year's was actually pretty good. Got drunk with my aunt and uncle (don't tell my mama) and partied with some Los Angeles upperclassmen and some Scandinavian economists. Far out man. Anyway, the real reason I'm here:

The sunshine fades in the distance

Treetops point to San Francisco

The darkness suits your demeanor

You know someone's watching you, but you know that it isn't God

You use your atlas and your compass

You say we all need some direction

Well I've heard we're all slowly dying

And what's the point in even fighting if it all turns out the same?

Well I don't know

So please don't ask

Anything of me

Anything at all

My sister lives in New York City

I hear you can't see the stars

The night sky is my religion

We all feel so substantial, but we really are so small

And I'm not fond of Isaac Newton

He explained it all too well

And if I'm drawn to the center of the Earth

Than what's it gonna take if I ever want to leave?

Well I don't know

So please don't ask

Anything of me

Anything at all