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Heavy Eyes
I'm sitting in the basement's deep end
There's literal static rising past my waist
I'm not drowning, feeling kind of cozy
Everything's wrong and it's keeping me awake
When I lay on my back it feels like an order
I can't force rest upon moist concrete slabs
All the shadows ignore me and move about the room
It all feels so basic because I'm so fucking angry
The lids on my eyes are made of liquid dynamite!
They weigh eight tons and refuse to hit the dirt
Now that I have the time, I can't seem to use it
I can't make anything a priority anymore
I'd like to meet myself some day, the real me
Beyond the fuzz and the mechanical shell
I remember me, I was probably a reasonable guy
The last time I saw me I think I was crying.
There's gaps between the many stages.
