Home is where the rain is soft and soothing Home is where the comfort is confusing Chased and cored like burning bridges Swallowing the tracks across my head
Always moving in the wrong direction Animated statue eyes are blinking Reflex of asphyxiated thinking Suspended, so much badly destracted Out of touch I'm out of reach
Struck by a car Crushed by a tree Fork in my tongue Glass in my sleeve I snap the rope snap the wrist Here in my inner spiral twist
This is the time when our minds begin stocking Jammering on when our lips have stopped talking