I lost it in a foreign regime
As I fall through don’t see the people I meet
A cross-eyed mother with a baby to bear
A muzzle-loaded tongue just spits in the air
I’d stop by, but I’m already there

Lycosis, cracks the joints of despair
And fall out, freezes up in thin air
Gyrate underneath a carpeted moon
Grasping anything that pockets the room
Can’t go now, it’s too late it’s too soon

Chorus
Under sedation I rule the night entirely wasted
Deprivation the seed is ripe I just want to taste it
I want to taste it

Encounters set ablaze on the wall
And the still shots it doesn’t matter at all
The magpie vocalize the state of affairs
The corner matches up but the room never squares
I’d climb in but I’d fall down the stairs

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