We won't ever be shaped by the shrill of your voice,
At least, I won't.
Come now, where's your sense of humor?
Bullshit plastic bags sit idly by in the drainage pipe,
Looking back at you and laughing at your existence.
Look ma, no life. No one's fucking impressed
With your absence of a soul
Do you really think you can see through these colours
And discover what the rest of the human race is scratching for?
Because I can't fucking find it.
Harmonize with me and maybe we'll find some solace
In the fact that we're two beautiful animals eating each other alive.
Holy shit, hot grits on the griddle plate taste like an infirmary warning.
Ripe and raw and supple with the flavors of things you have no choice over.
This is reliquary.
Can you see how much harm they do?
How about we get the fuck out of here and go someplace warm
Actually not even warm, I don't care
I just want to be somewhere other than the vacant gaping hole that I'm in.
You're a ghost. You're a ghost. You're a ghost. You're a ghost. You're a ghost.
Dear Lord, I don't know what's going on.
But I'm trying to be patient.
