blame it on the flies at the door all day
waiting to get out, 
 and when its opened they cling to the glass
all they see is freedom 
but are too terrified or stupid to move
a letter from a postman
those same bills I had from before
these same shoes rubbing holes through
these same undershorts ripped to shreds balls exposed
that lottery ticket that went missing from the glovebox
those naked girls in shiny clothes
run down eyes and teeth ground down
those fresh faces too young corrupt
this computer that barely runs does what it wants
shows what it wants
on a good day we sweat out our demons
on a bad we tear up at nothing
get a fix to fix the unfixable 
stop at the lights, drive on
 you're insured sure you are
casualties mount and they aren't your friends
you only think of the past when the sun isn't up
guessing is for fools
the sure thing is the thing that counts
but don't count the crowd
the lonely and normal
the breathing lung and the pumping veins
don't underestimate reputation or green things
they give life and they kill
all the time in the world won't give you this time back
so make sense, or don't make sense 
tis the question in the quest
not six days and a day of rest
but arrested feel, whether its your need to wheel, deal or steal, break, hate or just sit and wait
I'm not the only one afraid of suspense
its sick shallow dirty ways
the eyes may see but darkness evaporates eventually
and the face that was seeking is the face you are seeing 
momentum is continually dipping and slipping through gears, through the cheers, through connectivity to de-sensitivity
the dark side of the night, was the real dark side of the moon, darkest before sunrise and sweating 
minds a balloon
time's a saloon 
damn I keep running out of room to move 

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