I'm going to need to start romanticising this brick
The reds nice
I can't seem to see my own hands anymore
Last night I disappeared
Framed now
A
Sound
Great
Another one
And another one
Senses
I can't wait for next week
I can't wait for next week
I can't wait for next week
Slipping up again?
You serious?
What a fantastic loop
What time is it?
Had a great night last time
We looked around for once all those weeks ago now
I saw your red bricks
We
Are
Here
Again
Dopamine situation out of control
Screaming that screaming never did a thing
Framing another picture for your children to look at once you're gone
That's great for you
I just couldn't let them see themselves like this
All ourselves until we're not
I want to go home again

I see cold faces in a line
Looking on in horror at their broken legs
I see pain and ask them to be ok
Looking back it's too hard to stay
But I see them tell me it's too much to say
The sound of exchange reminds us all
Keep Forward
There's a sunrise every now and then and after all
It's all just business.

I never knew crows could salivate like that
Like the creeping ambience of a David Lynch movie
The grinding cogs, the dripping stench
The reverberation of forgetting you're alive
The last feeling you've ever had that you couldn't savour because you never knew
I see the memory of that fleeting moment pass by the windows
And I wonder how it got so bad

Because your eyes are always better than mine
And mine don't fit right in the sockets
You could try
I always grasp them too tight
Your flowers built better
In my mind I imagine mine
It's always different when I show it out loud

I want my eyes to be difficult to see
The shape of something not invited
Something uninvolved
Unsolved
Because everyone's eyes are the most important
And fit so right in their sockets
I want mine to fit anywhere
Your flower grows better
So I just want each part kept safe in a different point in time
I hate him
I hate him
He's not me and I hate him
There's a kid in there somewhere scribbling solutions so easily
I've lost custody

I like loading
And the faint sounds in the distance
And the breif whispers to keep me cold company
I like things I don't recognise
Styles I step on
I like far away
I hate him
I want my eyes to be different
I hate how polite he looks
I want to rip his eyes out and replace them with just the pupils and the cornea and the parts I like
I want him to be parts I like
But he never is
Whenever I'm convinced he will be what I ask
He waddles out, all scrunched up, not wanting to step around too much in case his footsteps are too loud, god I hate him

Take my hand
Move through these scenes
The ghost of now and everything
Trust in process; Soak in progress
Only speak when you feel the need
They drive for me, hopefully forward
For hopeful futures freed

I don't care
I'd rather watch my future walk away
Than face it right now
It's face rotting off
I can't look
I won't look
I haven't the energy to turn my head anyways
Altered space
I wish it was the books
I wish I could write
Stamping on everything
Carefully
Taking meaning no more
Just sticking things everywhere
Leaving things nowhere
My whole being broken now
So I don't think I can

Do you live as who you want to be?
How well is the costume made?
Made from future parts
And parts picked out from an early age
Your life trickles down and drips on your soul
Can you survive it?
The happiness it stole
Do you remember?
How you were before?
When you crawl
I laugh when you're on the floor and can't breath anymore
Your whole life shaking
You can catch up when it's running backwards