Their screams are unrelenting
Their voice rings out so stridently
And these rooms are painted thickly
In panoramic entropy
This is where it ends
In my detriment, cause
I cannot pretend
I’m not discontent

Raise this glass to eager lips
Humor my addictions
It helps me to find peace
In my afflictions
These hallways lined with bloody prints
And broken mirrors
This social atrophy
Becoming clearer
I’m dead to the world






These days drag on so slowly
Like single frames on your TV
These nights are chased with whiskey
And blurred by incoherent dreams
Will there even be
A smile left in me
When I’ve had enough
Of these Lidocaine soliloquies?

Wake up, drink up, come on, it’s alright now
Shut up, get up, get out, I’m so spiteful
You should name this disease, ‘cause you called it
Stricken with atrophy, it’s narcotic.