Some songs say there is another world but I've also heard it's nothing. A darkness slick with the sheen of emptiness. Some say it takes more courage to deal with pain than to leave it and I've felt that. But add more confusion in your wake. Another spill. Flow oil, cover to the quick the nails that count the blackened fish...64, 65, 66. Take us to the event horizon, through the blackness. Every question leads to pain. Every drained ounce runs a machine. Every last thing coils to singularity.