drunk on the blood
stuck to the rug
he vomits nostalgia
as the casualties
watch him seethe
with careful curiosity
with a raw dialogue
and effort to waste
he gives his sermon
but his words are pointless
to the sober conscious

they breathe the same air

all is mind as mind is all
flesh is stone as stone is flesh
pain is real as real is pain

in a sad awakening
he finds a window
god it's morning

all thoughts pierce
as memories are scarce
and the cuts have dried out

but the terror of
the night he lost
still hangs his head low

drunk on the rug
stuck to the blood
he vomits nostalgia

I waited for so long
for something to seem real
I had so many questions
I answered all my questions
when I seen your face turn
and I knew what was real
and I knew what was lost
yes I knew
what was real

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I Have
Community Lie
Mad At The Co.
I Am Right
We Dont Need Freedom
Success And Failure