I was staring off into the water

Looking for some undiscovered colors

Like a blue that really wasn′t, but it wasn't any othersThe synesthetic cousin to the hum of his discomfort

I been a punching bag for some truly deluded garbage

Now his handshake is a unicorn, his hug a moving target

Dark days either sparing change for the square pegs

Or in his fave chair sipping on bear mace

Tripping through his daymare, marathoning monster flicks

Zombie in the stale air, logging his Hayashi pics

I been trying to teach your kid to ollie

She got the basic motion and glow when she show her mommy

I get they want the hows and whens of water cooler powder kegs

That shit that get your saintly favorites ousted from the power grid

I know I know some shit about some shit

I guess that gotcha gossip simply isn′t part of how I live

Skin cold to the touch

Eyes open, no pulse

Diagnosis in flux

Traffic in a mad world

Mad world, whereupon

Often times the body spits the spirit out and carries on

To engineer some semblance of a normal life

Yours and mine

Then, of course, it's normalcy where paranormal's normalized

Normal is a phantom force that levitates the forks and knives

Or otherworldly parasites that quarrel over portion size

Hit the floor and you could be the next unfriendly energy to organize

Ordering corpses into the chorus line

Best friends and death beds

Red cents, and headwinds vs one man who′s ten men

I bubble to the surface legendarily imperfect

Purging Slurpee from a head that turns incessantly in circles

It′s concerning, my psychic likes to focus on a orb

And tell me how she sees me coming home to goldfish on the floor, in perpetuity

I been sleeping in my armchair

Taking weird walks and speaking to folk who aren't there

Skin cold to the touch

Eyes open, no pulse

Diagnosis in flux

The same alleys we used to imagine Babylon

Feel like abandoned malls overgrown with Spanish moss

Commotion froze in time with no sign of your lamb of god

It′s a land of the lost, scrambling for canned applause

Damn it, rip the bandage off, rant or panic if you must

Any way you manage it, the plan was always pick the cuffs

Eventually, fixtures who were questionably prisoners, and ventured out

Now we're never anything but visitors

Spent the winter sitting pretty on a sleigh to hell

Okay to look away if you need to forsake and save yourself

It′s underneath what's underneath the dungeon

That layer of dysfunction, that ain′t for the weak of stomach

I freak an Archeology that reek of repercussion

If you need to pick some pieces up, come dig a hole to jump in

Light sleeper, I'm a fighter, I'm a feeder

Earth, wind, fire, water, aether

Skin cold to the touch

Eyes open, no pulse

Diagnosis in flux