Equisetum

am/fm dreams

A taste of my own medicine’s still medicine I suppose
So why do I still feel so gross?

Just below the canopy
You see the forest through the trees
Why can’t I be taller than these?

Your lying lips make myths
Lying lips make myths
You’re the first to listen and always the last to be wrong

I’ve been around before anyone
A living fossil so I’m told
But why do I feel not so old

Just below the undergrowth
There’s a story to be told
I’m still here but I’m not so bold
You’re the first to listen and always the last to be wrong

A taste of my own medicine’s still medicine I suppose
So why do I still feel so gross?