these are the shakes
the crescendos of my skin feel like the world is dying
we videotape the end in Wrong Choice City
play it back over and over until the images burn in our memory
of tempermental and erratic breath,
we struggle in chains
you contemptuous man
how are they even still talking to you?
in the throes of dependency like waves in a storm,
waiting for the next wagon to fall off of,
waiting for it to pull you under
these are the shakes, yeah
and in times like these, no one is safe
I manufacture false realities daily, and justify hell on earth
"if they only knew", man, I've been saying that for years
and yet if I could just lock the door and leave,
condemn the house,
and yet if I could just lock the door and leave,
if I could only
just leave
