Remember...

Walking around like devils,

Lined up for the fan, spinning,

Feet stamping out a rhythm, you are not

A true man, but yet, you stamp your feet to the rhythm,

Which numbs your ear drums,

This sucks out your soul,

Reaching for repetition, its a killer, up buildings,

Straight sides flashing light into your eyes,

Windshields winking reflected 

On rings and anklets and around your neck

No freedom, O' sweet heavenly silence,

Reaching for repetition, signals illusion, 

Its a high pitch, standing still, you're a synaptic

Space away, spare me my nerves, and blood battle,

Stains setting like a fat swollen heart,

On a dirty white piece of metal, that is ourour secret,

Darling, divided by degrees and angles, identities are

Only a pretty show, of symmetry.