FASHION

I was treading in the sea
Fastened to the fable of an island made of green

And i was threading through my seams
Tangled in the fabric of a fleeting fever dream

Far beyond my mind's fixation
Here are fascists making factions of their fucked up brigades

And i'm a sad little boy
Playing with childhood toys
And fluoxetine joys

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I'm the sad little mouth
Screaming without a sound
Oh! Hold me dear, I wallow out in vain

I'm the perilous weight
Pinning you to the gate
As metal coils clash and call out your name

Just when you think i'm gonna stop
I'm winding up these frail chains for one more good time romp

Cause you're such a class act
Such a lad, such a snack
When your fiction is fact
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