He was asking for an accident
And he had asked for it so long
It was quiet conspicuity
It was a whisper of a song
And whether mid-day,
night, or morning
I could have sworn that it had gone
"Let me in, let me in"
I could have sworn that it had gone
"Let it out, let it out"
I could have sworn that it had gone
"Pick it up, put it down,"
It was frightened ambiguity
Dandelioning along
It was frozen in the postal-state
It was a letter never drawn
Tremors halving contiguity
Whatever I'd like, whatever I'd like
Tomorrow towards the turnpike's tongue
It was quiet, but I knew it wasn't right
Sep 3, 2021
Sep 3, 2021 at 7:57 PM UTC
He was asking for an accident
And he had asked for it so long
It was quiet conspicuity
It was a whisper of a song
And whether mid-day,
night, or morning
I could have sworn that it had gone
"Let me in, let me in"
I could have sworn that it had gone
"Let it out, let it out"
I could have sworn that it had gone
"Pick it up, put it down,"
It was frightened ambiguity
Dandelioning along
It was frozen in the postal-state
It was a letter never drawn
Tremors halving contiguity
Whatever I'd like, whatever I'd like
Tomorrow towards the turnpike's tongue
It was quiet, but I knew it wasn't right
I can hear a laugh along the highway line
I could hear the winding in the tunnel all this time
I could hear the murmur, but I still called it a whine
