Shattered glass 2

Shattered dreams that keep on getting re-cycled.
Always getting flat wheels on my brand new bicycles.
Living in a house made of glass, you're throwing stones,
so I guess you must know that you'll get cut to messy shreds.
And I'm so washed-up and washed-out -
don't know the time of day - who can tell me?
Slashed across my face are the shadows of the blinds like a razor.
I'm a little fish trying to swim in the hot sand.
For days I've got major swarms of flies buzzing around my head man.
I'm cussing and I'm scared at what's beyond that door of mine.
I can't take it - I'm breaking.
Am I gonna make it?
I don't know.
This feeling digging in my bones,
shivers down my spine.
Young, traumertized and black.
I smell that doomsday is coming, that's for sure.
Their U.F.Os land.
Our minds will be running far away.