A tumbling river of psychosis, towing me down the line Finding the speaking tree, where the levee bends skyward Eyes open we shelter shock our ***** socks into piles then flop down in arms spent days in shaking for longing longing for being held
A strange place to find yourself, down this road tonight Bright lights on tip toe through the needle sharp live oak Cough up and choke on the last broken syllable spent in a corner store snoring symphonies
Beetles on the screen and all it can mean is the light is attracting them A stem on the prefrontal cortex was forced more or less open Serotonin blue potion puts life back in motion with little to no commotion
Here we are, finding the time to slice rhymes into watermelon triangles Here we are, losing it all over again You and you and you and you
Tired old men with their heads bent low taking the salt and brine in tow hooks like daggers skinny steel octopus rings for a fishes meal