I see a fat kid, twenty eight and aging
A welfare old kid, casting sideways eyes
At store front windows to make sure
S/he's getting smaller, to take up less space

This is a small place, we cook in snake oil
A young, self-assured place, still fitting graves
Even the sun shines on this necrotic fixation
Everyone lives in maudlin infatuation

I am neither, born of the expanse in-between

Shrink,
Tiny aspirations, that's us!
Shrink,
Shrink with me into the night in the land of rolling holes

Six feet, at least, sweet destiny sweeps sooner, so soon

Shrink,
Tiny aspirations, that's us!

Shrink,
Shrink with me into the night behind the day,
in the land of thick lipstick over genocide