I used to survive on the delusion that God was a pinball fanatic
bouncing stars and human souls akin to a stroke of luck
And victory would comply with a better place someday
to serve and willful, a role with clear purpose, hallelujah.
Eventually, anyway, my eyelashes were ripped open
as my twin petrified me with a fork, a near miss display
of lesser skill and accuracy with intent to maim, kill, avenge
worse offenses taken place to an animal without equal, hurt
and that pain can be culled over the dinner table, embraced
in rancor, encouraging a pretense that spells downfall
Cleave this atmosphere of an interview under the light doc,
I ain't about pleasantries, gravity takes a toll, burned out.
No longer a partner in crime, a pal singing in defiance to the choir
Probably for the best, scars smear trills in the skin
A canyon that blood flow cannot revert,
pretty please shooting star, mister White
erase this blurred memories
ants been nabbing them by the root
and neglect taken guard too, trust me.
That does taste like something I would say
packed my shit and left. Burned a tear soaked letter
with your last cigarette under the caress of a thunderstorm
the window broke and drove to the cleanest
decapitation by the wind sill
or so I was informed,
the glory mere wrinkles on those that grow old
a conspiracy that twinkles on her wink
let's be honest, I am better now
and I resent it deeply, stings of fear
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