Was a time I would have cried. Those days have all gone by. You always walked a crooked line. And so did I. You read my thoughts, you knew my fears. Weren't as old as you appeared.
Slackjaw live in the cellar. They let him grind the trash. Clumps of hair and puke and bones. Piles of broken glass. Finds pictures of pretty girls and hangs 'em on the wall.
Swimming in circles. Undercurrent calling me home. Vision is dimming. Are you going to swallow me whole. Are you going to swallow my soul. Wrap me in your cool green arms.
I can't remember my lines. Can't come up with a rhyme or even a reason. I know the face, I just can't erase. But I still can't place the name or the season.