I wake up tomorrow and it's today
Whatever happened, anyway?
I'm not hungover, I'm not insane
But something isn't right, my friend
Am I hallucinating? Am I dreaming?
There's a fucking air about it
that doesn't smell right, it smells like shit
or sulfur
or where the fires of hell burn
Take a shower
Wash off the flavor
Stand in wonder
And fall back into place
Fall
Fall
Fall
Fall
Fall
Fall
Fall
Fall
Right where the couch feels the most comfortable
Right where the mirrors shines the dullest
Right where Jack's bean is drier than a doornail
Right where green spiders go swimming in my head
and I will i say i'm fine, if you ask me
but really,
those who fight with the fewest illusions are locked up the most
Author notes
don't ask me.
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