Perceptual antiquities tend to disturb me
Forever decent was the thread that held my
Silver thoughts together
Forever decent was my mind
But that was several days ago, and I've
No way home
The voices inside say
"Fuck it"
So let's go
Die for the experience and
Make pathetic attempts at a satisfactory
Lifestyle of its and things
Let us revert back to the days of sitting
Alone on grade school steps
With thoughts of hated blue walls
And irrational fears, failing to
Kill off the ominous figures
Which stalk night streets
And forget the heartless forms
Which rely so heavily on the hope of
Fiction.
