Fever clutched down
grasp again and I'll make it
furtive glance around
I shiver

You have, dead grey surface pores that gasp and pull
we try to breathe through, but you **** in and control
all the while radiating that fever feeling
of a surface wide fever-catch reality
that awful feeling
all for the sake of continued neutrality

I yell, but you take it

a clamorous reduced warbling of my own voice drawn into grey gasping caverns
you see nothing with that pockmarked visage, but I've still one good eye
I'm blind as any fool but I can fake it
screeching truth through bland ciphers
dreaming on and on
it won't be long till I break it

You've still got some sort of hold on me,
but you know I'll make it.