Property

Again, again, the very second I leave A knife coming up from the ground Clinging rung to rung up this ladder, chasing A pinpoint of light from above All the tricks are fated, never chosen Dead birds scatter in a dream In the crawlspace of the heart, a carved place I can never find a reason In Needles driving up to Barstow Every second, a pill bleeds, obsolete and blistering Wooden houses walk on twig legs Carnival of evils sitting in a dog cage Again, again, it's folded up for more Car bottomed out on a rocky road While thеy're asleep, I'll be carving out a hole Sick of strings, thе surface of survival A long drive ahead, nothing better to forget Cut up and cuddled up and leaking Metal towers get up, start a-walking Crows carry slivers of feeling With every second I waste hunting for feeling In the filter of the highway, in the bottom of the lake Crack a can of covered eyes and little doors a-creaking Pain where the bone broke when the pressure drops the ceiling Again, again, the very second I leave A knife coming up from the ground Clinging rung to rung up this ladder, chasing A pinpoint of light from above