sitting in a field with fingers in the earth artificial turf should cover everything you and me cover the real world so green and evenly artificial hurts and manufactured words artificial words and manufactured hurts holding down your face until you let go first you and me uncover the real world alone eventually the filthy sun shines down upon the dull earth spring not anything will grow back in were grass grew once roll back the carpeting you and me uncover the real world imperfect and ugly