Mulling over those who determine to consciously live an ironic lifestyle,
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a little piece of my eye fell off.
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Then it slowly floated away.
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Had I not seen anything, I never would have known,
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but a small bit of light was blocked out.
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I'm an easy target, but who are you to tell me I can't make fun.
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I'm literally losing a way to see with your b-sides beside me.
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This time as the room drinks in water I will listen to your voice
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and feel rather nice about not ever waking up again in this dry skin.
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I breathe in your nuances in endless succession.
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"I love you. It's murder". It's me.
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When will I fall under the spell of the lords of slumber?
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On "Tormentors", I heard thunder.
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The perfection in this timing makes me wonder.
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"When there's nothing to care for," nothing to love anymore,
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it's the control that you adore.
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Now start the faucet and close the door.
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Dry Skin (Moz Def)
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| Kingston Falls |
