It’s the early signs of disintegration. The back and forth from a new machine. It’s been blessed and burned into a formation by a wish dipped in kerosene. So who’s going to light the fuse? Who’s going to be the one to hold high the flame because I refuse. And I’ve just begun so don’t hold me down I’m almost done. A lesson lived through the loss of love. This is not a search for who’s at fault, it’s more of a plea for hope and understanding. It’s the side effects of adoration. The come and go and get out clean. I’ve been cursed and freed from dedication by a wish dipped in kerosene.