The vanishing act’s up next
but the magician’s nowhere to be found.
He’s watching from the balcony.
He’s gonna stay put and make the world disappear.

The vanishing act’s up next
but this time Jesus has the upper hand.
There’s not a single cloud in this sky, which is to say
there’s not a single suicidal thought in my mind.
Oh death, where is your sting?
I’m not gonna listen to satan anymore.

The vanishing act’s up next
but my treasure’s not going anywhere.
My treasure’s in heaven, and my Isaac’s on earth.
My heart is in heaven and my treasure’s in my bed.

I gave up my riches but I had no faith
from the crow’s three caws until today, but
by the fire I heard a whispered word
sounding like a cymbal or a
ram’s horn
“He’s back,
and He’s coming back, and He’s back.”

The vanishing act’s up next
but this time it’s screwtape’s turn to disappear.
Come watch the show.
The dawn is here.

When I hear airplanes overhead
all I can think about is winding up dead in some bombing
so I tell them to fuck off, so far
they’ve always listened to me,
or maybe not.
When I feel some strange sensation
I’m sure that it’s the start of the infestation
that’s gonna take my body apart piece by piece, a thousand
bugs living in my head.
When I hear some sharp noise right outside, I wonder
if I’m brave enough to die fighting.
And when I hear voices in my mind
well, sometimes they’re the ones Abraham heard
but usually not,
just “you forgot to call your boss back
now it’s too late.”
But none of that holds a candle to the fear
that you might leave me soon, my dear,
if you find out what a neurotic fuck you’re dating.

Brain damage has a way of making the world fade
so the bricks in the wall are fuzzy,
so thoughts won’t spring to mind,
so you’re never quite awake.

It’s not exactly the same as alcohol,
but it’s close.
Controlling your body through a long tunnel
Watching yourself make
one decision a minute.

Watching yourself walk across the room
as you stay on the couch.

Like when you skip two nights in a row
cause the fire inside you just will not go out
long enough to close your eyes.

The sun rises as it sets. It’s up
and in minutes it sinks back down again.
No one sees you, hiding in your room. You
don’t believe in the future. No one
sees you , they wouldn’t care if you got better.

Like half a month in a cloud of cynicism so thick
you couldn’t be seen by God himself.

And walking through halls and down streets and up stairs
among the shadows of stupid ignorant people
who don’t understand and didn’t ask,
and you really wish they’d asked.
Are they imaginary,
or am I?

That is how I’ve felt for these five years
and they have passed in the time it takes
to say it doesn’t matter.

Freedom is the worst thing that ever happened to me.

Did my last real feelings freeze when the world did,
all but guilt and despair,
still waiting to be picked up where I dropped them off in high school?
Have I got five years of unread emails in a hidden folder somewhere?
Or do I just not have a self at all?

I’m going the wrong way
like a drunk on the highway.
Like granny thinks the country’s going down,
I’m coming down
with something deadly.
Like the Romans rolling into town too late
mere moments before the lead in the waterways
gets into their brains
I’m going down
like them buildings came down.
Don’t breathe the dust that I’ll kick up,
there’s no one there to save.

Nobody understands my words when I say em
but I still say em just the same. I’m not
selling them, they don’t have to be right.
I’m staying sane for now, for reasons I don’t understand,
staying in the game, waiting for something
I don’t understand.
Some of the parts are greater than the whole,
and the world ends with me. It won’t be repeated,
I won’t be deterred, and even though I see it can’t be completed
in the time I have, still I am determined
that the world perturbed, I am going to see it
till they wonder what they ever did to me and
no one ever knows what they did to bring it
but the worlds they built are on borrowed time,
and the lives they built are on fire.

That thing alive outside
running its nails across the ice
from the heart of the darkest night of winter
eyeless, wrapped its hundred
inhuman limbs around the house, and peered in
whispering without closing its mouth
“your shadow tires of aping you. It has grown to
despise you. Watch your step, lest it escape
its restraints and take your place.
For this warning I will take the price of half your life.”
Some day it will return,
but I’ve caught my shadow reaching for knives
a dozen times.

All the things you fear you’ll never do,
and salvia induced
hallucinations, swim
just beneath the surface, just out of sight,
dark as wine so late in the nighttime,
close behind.
You close your eyes,

they come for you.
And your mind
is shimmering like porcelain, well polished
tin, shattering.
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
stronger than
They’re biting at your heels
they’re howling,
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.