All the things you fear you’ll never do,
and salvia induced
just beneath the surface, just out of sight,
dark as wine so late in the nighttime,
You close your eyes,
they come for you.
And your mind
is shimmering like porcelain, well polished
As dark as white.
Don’t call me, I’ll call you,
It would be easy for you
to fall behind
and the others never slow down
They have always been
They’re biting at your heels
they’re coming in the night for you.
And I’m lost in the world of man.
These schematics were made by a madman.
Half the gears turn nothing
but they kill to keep them running.
Half the sky they sacked for oxidized scrap metal,
sold for spare change.
I cannot change a mind I cannot make up to begin with.
I’m just some left wing weakling worth less than southern kindling,
praying to the west to wash out the worst
mistakes of the rising sun
but it rains dust for months.