Come right back. Buy all that they have. Convenient disguise, We distantly laugh
You are eleven. 1997. God is implicit. Your luck is consistent.
And no I can not see into the future, No I cannot breathe underwater. Bit your last word, I Call out to you, This place is vile, and I’m vile too.
My gal and father, Vomit and water, We’re not alone here, We invent our own fear. And separately we will see chaos condolence defeat
And now in this place, You talk to my shell You keep double wides You dream in motels
And my words are ugly, And you can’t discern me, God’s buried under, Your damaged wonder
And no I cannot see into the future, No I cannot breathe underwater. With sabers and sticks, we'll run to our peace Kept undisclosed and told of a memory.
And in this dejection, lives a connection Tattoo your vain silence And all my resistence, We’ll cut our hands agape and manifest Compassion we'll lose with time and test