I've got a dark mood that I keep away for something unexpected like a raincheck. I've got a jacket but it's filled with my veins and body that I just cannot respect. I wanted to be like a thing of rain that could disconnect the self from solemn thoughts of pain but now the wheels are spinning out, I'm getting stuck. I've gotten so good at lying to myself. I've gotten skilled at lying by myself. Telling me I know exactly what I need when I just hope somebody's missing me. There is a tingle on each one of my temples if I feel somebody talking straight through me: a spray of water gushing from a sprinkler courses in to wash my face and wake me up from sleep. I've gotten so good at sleeping in the day. New habits seem the hardest to break. Not even dreams could conjure up some faith when my body's spilling out of me. I'm not worthless, I know that. Your mouth is open but it's just in my head. I'm the contestant of the game of my brain and if I figure out the rules I can win. The friendship's sailing back into the bay and now I'm standing straight up at the wheel feeling vibrations coming out of my head, telling dark moods to hide themselves again.

What I saw is not what really happened, sweaty palms felt the pulse evaporating. What I saw that record-breaking autumn was pentagrams on the pumpkins getting rotten. Tell me what it is when you stop me in the hallways…always the way. Always the way. What I saw is not what really happened, sweaty palms felt the pulse evaporate. What I saw that record-making autumn was seven levels of a longer conversation. Tell me what it is when you stop me in the hallways…always the way. Always the way. Try not to go through the hallways the way. Keep an eye out for a windy visionary (keep your visions to yourself please keep an eye out for the climbing trees).