Before the metaphors and metal forged I sat ignored and lonesome
alone and broken...
Groanin' in an ocean of token defeat
rote motions
dead-feet
my feats retreat...
Bleeding dreams and fleeced sheep
eaten lacking wheat
a sheath for elite-meat-treats and bleep-heaps...
Driven deeper-steeper
hear her cry when satellites fly...
I sit outside and mind my own business...
But in this bees nest I'm best before checks in reality
I'm a liability for the masks of sentimental sentinels brandishing fundamental finality on the mantle of rivalry...
Sodden grease and I follow-she
all ah-me
and I'm falling-free...
Solemn freeze
and I'm free-falling asleep...