Wreck & Reference What Goes In And Comes Out
So here we are in the house of humor in the latter days of the law Some reverberant dread shatters all your windows sloughs off all Your skin 'til it's raw
The capital hum you've been chasing around
You've been digging up dirt's at your door
Creeping in like red wine, flu and heartburn
A swollen ache you've felt before
Waking and unwaking you throw yourself into the briar
I throw myself in every day
These are Armageddon dreams and they are nothing more than that
I have nothing left to say
There are ten holes in my body and all I can think about is what goes in and comes out
Every time I see a photograph of myself, I ask "Am I the fox or the hound?"
Chronic inflammation, cathexis and chaos, that is everything that I can recount
After thirty years of bending and buckling and folding and smoking it out