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. . .
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There's so many rules to follow.
Sheep play their war game.
In the literal black cloud.
And in your perspiration it absorbs.
A cycle as old as life is long.
Everyone has always agreed.
You breathe in the filth.
And in you it absorbs.
You breathe in the filth.
And in you it absorbs.
There's so many rules to follow.
Sheep play their war game.
In the literal black cloud.
. . .
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Narrowly escape the storm engulfing
Run aground in waters evaporating
Infinite cycle wants an ending
Asking questions without answers
Bliss was never knowing
The hunt was better than the kill
. . .
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. . .
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Detached from reality
Withdrawn from the game
Tiptoeing around logic
Catalyst dried up to a muddle
Words will forever fail
Perpetual and steady separation
Parched nerves drink the life out of you
. . .
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. . .
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