His face rests red and buried
in the crevasse of a tree,
embarrassed that we've discovered him in this state.
He shrugs and sobs and wipes his nose,
and awkwardly stumbles away.

A casual joke from a tourist sparks a realization
that his whole life is but one-fourth of their vacations
and he wonders why he has wasted his life...

This property is stunning,
stunning but surely not his.
It seems that a studio apartment's where he'll always live.
He has a vast knowledge
of literature from F to F,
yet 45 minutes of tidbits is all he has to give.

He prays for some sort of resolve,
but it appears he will remain an inconclusive novel.

Lyrics submitted by Zanois

Mr. Menutia song meanings
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