How ******* banal is this existence?
Traversing the canals of this persistence.
Never quite knowing
The way the wind is blowing
If things happen for a reason
I’m giving up on believin’
How ******* sane is this world?
As bony and frail as the frame of a little girl.
Never truly ripe
The holly gardens at midnight
If things only grow for a season
I’m giving up on believin’
How ******* real is reality?
Speaking in abstracts like a badge of morality.
Never really concise
A tickling on your brain like head lice
If things only happen for a inexplicable reason
I’m giving up on believin’
This contemplation
itself
is treason.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
How ******* banal is this existence?
Traversing the canals of this persistence.
Never quite knowing
The way the wind is blowing
If things happen for a reason
I’m giving up on believin’
How ******* sane is this world?
As bony and frail as the frame of a little girl.
Never truly ripe
The holly gardens at midnight
If things only grow for a season
I’m giving up on believin’
How ******* real is reality?
Speaking in abstracts like a badge of morality.
Never really concise
A tickling on your brain like head lice
If things only happen for a inexplicable reason
I’m giving up on believin’
This contemplation
itself
is treason.
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