When they pound on the glass,
I know they're with me, but I can't

stay, in the small corner, in the back

seat, inside the radio I've fucked, and
bloody Mary used to be my friend, I'm
furious to see such fury in black and white
was I supposed to live, I think, about flashing
lights in the dark and stepping over lines and
tying my hands behind my head, stepping
backwards into dread, and letting go,
please don't let me, know you, and be this,
I'm still in the white room, hitting my head
against the wall and thinking over the crazy
that birthed me, and the lost, the lonely inhabit
the earth and the scenery is dying, looming in
the dark we see black birds flying and want
to rip their wings off, just to jump and see
if we make it, time to die!