J.D. Salinger

Maybe I'm a recluse

In a house I don't own

I've started talking to tin can telephones

Daily dose of damage

I get obsessed with

Call it karma or self-reflection

I could throw a Molotov cocktail

Burn down the places I go

Start a great American novel

Like the one Salinger wrote

Maybe I'm a recluse

My old friends forgot

Feel myself slipping when the hardwood starts to rot

I'll cut you off

Like a frostbitten limb

I'm embarrassed

Feel the phantom kicking in

I could throw a Molotov cocktail

Burn down the places I go

Start a great American novel

Like the one

Like the one Salinger wrote

So call me what you want

An arsonist

A solipsist

At war with pagan gods

Give me what I need

The energy to push away

Everyone I meet

I could throw a Molotov cocktail

Burn down the places I go

Start a great American novel

Like the one Salinger wrote