The needle ****** the figure and i lose sense of picture.
So turn up the burners and let loose all fictions.
Because i can't distinguish the bathroom from the kitchen.
The room becomes a ferris wheel of laughter and the mind
begins to wonder.  Iam just a cage of blunders, drowning
underwater.  Tied to the mast, with holes left of the past.  
They cast out as you slowly fill up, to let you sink under.