Had I assumed or walked in the tomb of your mind.
I'd been orbitally inclined.
Presumptuous fear over the cyclical vomit.
Conversations likely won't stomach.
We're wearing plague masks praying to feel the same way.
I can't even hear you now. And I even though I don't know. I'm ok with what you're saying.
I can't even hear myself. I will determine this. I just prefer to get. Right where the vermin sit.
Bet it tastes like home.
Send me back up hold my thoughts. Slip away follow by applause.
Of course. Malingering all the way home.
wrap your arms round. hum that song. I don't think we're gonna press on.
Divorce from my overall sense.
Send me back up hold my thoughts. Hum that song.
Had it ballooned or ran down clouds with your scope.
No catching breath with those gulps.
Pathetic embrace sweat on the palms and no promise.
My swirling thoughts are like comets.
We're wearing plague masks praying to feel the same way.
credits
from $3 Weekly,
released June 12, 2017
Writen and performed by: Trent Alex
Additional guitars by: Will J Tyrer and Angus Leslie
Mastered by Jordan Dempster @ Headache Studios
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