comfortable corner crushing me
slant ceiling off my vent
self-impressioned ass-mark indent
the better the view, the more i feel remote
i 86 it and cut the loss
before your empty signals switch me off
and i'm feeling long-lost
the shell is weather-worn
the fluid at the core is volatile
i'm not quite myself today
maybe i'll stand and breathe
peel the long-dead skin away
and step out of the beam
yes, i feel like standing on the outside
and take in a risky air
i'd rather die by chance than in my chair
half unaware
the man is weather-worn
the child at the core is volatile
Verse 23 Seconds, 502K
Chorus 15 Seconds, 315K
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