Come right back. Buy all that they have. Convenient disguise, We distantly laugh You are eleven. 1997. God is implicit. Your luck is consistent. And no I can not see into the future, No I cannot breathe underwater. Bit your last word, I Call out to you, This place is vile, and I’m vile too. My gallant father, Vomiting water, We’re not alone here, We invent our own fear. And separately we will see Chaos condolence defeat And now in this place, You talk to my shell
You keep double wides You dream in motels And my words are ugly, And you can’t discern me, God’s buried under, Your damaged wonder And no I cannot see into the future, No I cannot breathe underwater. With sabers and sticks, we'll run to our peace Kept undisclosed and told of a memory. And in this dejection, lives a connection Tattoo your vain silence And all my resistence, We’ll cut our hands agape and manifest Compa**ion we'll lose with time and test