Think, models, think, metaphor I am plagued by a yet to be defined mind disorder Symptoms include illusion to losing (delusion) the tissue and fluid that borders a bruise contoured to lose core of my aura among other things that clutter dreams and suddenly pull my swollen puppet strings. Hold and clutch my utterly insecure back-peddling Please pour the powdered water from the kettle And load my cup full of adrenaline Now I can settle in tucked tight between sheet rock and crushed ice She knocked but I never let her in despite the fact she looked nice in black Said I’m in my head isn’t twisted upright, it leans lopsided but eerie enough I still treasure it dearly. Born in a vocal booth, I hope to own the moon with no excuse Soon to be the groom to a tune close to you Sail the true stale ocean blue and ate lunch But corrosion grew for eight months and the Trojan threw a fake punch And a crow to fool em. I have sold my sancturary, thank you very much Buried all I’d carried for a vocabulary brush And I don’t wanna be around when the cherry busts Cuz when it does/dust settles the flood all of America It might have been all over if you were to barely thrust But you got greedy punctured too deep and now she’s scared of trust But who can you trust anyway, every opinion is dated (jaded) by an experience, making any thought a response to a memory. I am my enemy, can’t think my way out of this penitentiary Embrace the condition humanity’s mechanically accepted for centuries It’s the water, is it real? How does it make you feel being endlessly dependent on external crutches and shields? Sleep-walking through the dust covered fields Haunted by the taunted souls of those who kept the seals closed I’ve stretched the distance, and pushed the envelope This song’s become an endless note For all women and men with hope Open your eyes, you no longer can float. You’re sinking and drinking the powdered water. Going to make you choke!