drift past faces of stone
infiltrator in any home
I don't know of the concept
blanked out brain like lack of object
permanence
surface dents
form braille characters all scribes resent
it's a death mask impression made of cracked cement
gonna be a big hole where them lines intersect
roads crumble away
don't want to go anyway
never leave the fucking house
wait for shit to run out
triturate by loans
rent to own patch cable bones
refuge in distorted tone
re-entry will be postponed
indefinitely
I desperately
need to stay gone by
any means necessary
feedback blastin, past turn ashen briefly
though never completely, throat shred bleakly
once for the others and twice for the self
those that get it get that I have to, I am compelled
room full of the same weird fucks
only way I won't self destruct
once the blood is let
and the table set
we all come to eat
din on repeat