Maybe I’ll just sleep for the next three months
Like copper and gold won’t turn to dirt and dust just this once
Lost things won’t find disrepair
In the same way it’s always five minutes past quarter past four somewhere
Nowhere feels too far
When it’s hard to just be where you are
And the muscles behind my eyes start to hurt
From thinking too long about the quickest way to fall off the face of the earth
The endless white wall views
Make the whole world feel about the size of this one fucking room
Nothing ever Is spelled out clear
Fourteen feet down where...
Clouds of smoke begin to occupy space
And the ground beneath my feet suddenly starts to disintegrate
Harping endlessly on things that won’t become
Still trying to let go of what I never even had a hold of
When the muscles behind your eyes start to hurt
Remember that everything you love returns to dirt and things could still get worse
And the endless white wall views
Make the whole world feel about the size of this one fucking room
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