It's a long and winding road out of this dark decaying dream
and I've been waiting patiently to see a way out through the trees
but I don't know what it all means; archaic door behind the leaves.

So please don't wait for me to follow now the bottle is so hollow,
now I've swallowed all my sorrow now the power grows to shallow
for the people not to drown in and wallow around in all the opportunity to fondle a model.

They come in these random orders,
wrap around you, hold so tight.
It's getting better all the time.
You won't be lonely for the rest of your life.

It's hard to place me at the scene let alone try to fit between
the spaces made to intervene in all your choices as a teenage meat-machine. It doesn't mean that you can't bring one side of A over to B and finally see the good in everything.

It takes a monument to become so irrelevant
that we're becoming celibate, no reason but the hell of it.
Inferior intelligence, I guess it's not the best to just
pretend that we're defending and projecting that we're correct

It's becoming more ridiculous to live like this.
We look like fucking idiots. Let's go before they pity us.
Okay, here comes the city bus. What could be more insidious?
They're gonna ask us trivia and I don't think that I will hold up.

Go on without me. Save yourself.
No need for you to die as well.
Get out while you still have your health
but let me tell you how to settle every level of malevolence:
it's elegance. Be more the simple peasants. Be more permanent. Be presidents.

Light gets shut out.
Black masking tape.