Bookworm

I'm in a book

For you to read and then throw out.

I wasn't born,

I was just dropped into your arms.

Tell Mom I've been bad,

And I want to come home.

And you couldn't breathe

With all those doctors at your side.

But you're talking to me,

Saying "I wish that I had died

'Cause I'm being crowded,

Pushed in your hands,

And I want to come home on the F Train."

And if you were just a paper boat,

Floating through the garden.

Lost at sea, drift to me

And into someone's nightmares.

A home is a highway,

Your pillow's a rock.

I'm in a rusted car

Bound to get lost.