There are no ends to these extremes
This must be purgatory
Ghosts follow you
They treat you as the hollow you
The minute you fade away they burn you
What an art to learn
How they easily adapt to those they say they hate
Drinking the kool-aid with a straw smile
So **** lucky to fall in line-
Never losing sense of time
What a thick batch of rapture
Don’t know who to fear
Don’t know what to love
There are no ends to these extremes