The engine speaks and I'm wide awake.
Somewhere past the signal of an ending I still remain.
Dropped down, let go, right next to an emptiness.
Held back, repressed, because of a bitterness.
Crossed out, remote, despite what the public says.
That's not what they meant.
Give me something to do
besides sitting all alone and wishing I was someone else.
I can't dream for myself.
I'm wide awake in a constant.
Install self neglect.
From a signal and a weakened reception.
The engine continues to sputter along.
Ignoring all content.
Extending the wreckage that still remains.
Spilled out, undone, all over the pa**age way.
Profane, excess, grabbing for another frame.
The one piece I got I can't seem to give away.
Don't we get one more take?
Why do we always want so deeply
the things we can't achieve?
I had a vacancy I hoped this would fill...