[ Featuring
the Thousands ]
The waitress hasn't come around
She's busy painting her eyelids
And in the silence my mind begins to wander
To my heartbeat, the simple tempo of anatomy
A certain lack of empathy
For this long list of questions I don't have answers for
Like ain't it strange how these thoughts can rearrange into something I can't relate?
Why these endless days only start to accelerate when my mind finds something it Should hold onto but runs to dangerous new places
If a line extended from my pointed finger would it pierce the sky like a fighter jet?
Where did that road want to take me?
Who is responsible for this aching?
The sea of possibilities is vast and ever growing
And its desperate to pull me under when I just dip my toe in
A cup of ice tea goes for a buck and a quarter
The world outside descends into disorder
The end of all things might be just around the corner
I've not yet guessed what is wrong with me, but I think I'm getting warmer
The edge of my sanity is a thin and fragile border
Could someone please just come take my order?
