[asylum]

its already 8 am and im drunk as homer s
belchin till my lips shake with misery's finesse
just killed a half a bird know i almost ate the bones
know i'm fuckin feelin thirsty know why my names patron
cuz im emptyin the bottles
dont tempt me with a hussle or hastle me with preachin
i'm naturally catastrophe no need to feed the demons
gnawing on these bars like malnourished greedy heathens
my courage comes from time spent conversing in the dark
lingering in shadows fighting urges to depart from earth
it's dark but our skin shows the marks our faces hide
sideways slits across my wrists distract from bruises on my throat
choking on a gasp of air as i come to and my pupils close
feel the sting of air in the tear left by a bullet's kiss
i got no tears left to cry need all the salt i can get
try to aggravate assault force feeding smiles to my lips
just keep ya head up cuz this road lasts for miles and miles
open flat desert's buried treasure when you see the sky
do clouds guess how your shaped staring at the sand?
guess i'll never know cuz im staring into space again
shape shifting like shang tzung on an isolated island set
it's not really 'bout the show as much as characters the mind invents
stay behind the curtain, tension grows like seaweed in the ocean
food for thought meets empty stomaches less than thirsty people drink
its the curse of debtors servitude changing how a family thinks
fathers leaping off of buildings see happy people at their dinner table
rock bottoms closer than you think mirror images sickness cradles
as god as my witness, i thought sadness had limits
time goes deeper into space as you realize the darks infinite
eyes stare deeper until stars form from gas
darkness born from an orb of light
reverse depth with a staircase caressing the sky
drink my soul away while weejee boards suggestively fly
surfing on the tides of solar flares impressive to sight
our souls speak with yellowed fingers touched by the end of time
my eyes tell a thousand stories no stitch will ever heal
open mouths sing quiet notes as the final actor takes a kneel
angels playing harps drink from flasks that the devil fills
resentment's a passion quenched by trenches and banquets
it's not the size of the fence but the stake of the claimant
the greatest walls fall to the slaves who have made them