,
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 Iâm vile too.
My gal and father,
Vomit and water,
Weâre 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 canât discern me,
Godâs 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,
Weâll cut our hands agape and manifest
Compassion we ll lose with time and test
