The submissive hunger is to be the object of an intense and penetrating understanding of nothing to sell in here, just time to wait for her as a stranger wrote that it takes a lot of balls to play golf the way i do. The binary police is on it's way, making more and more room for the blues of feeling like being constantly away. To put out my tongue for you too see i've been dying of thirst before you even notice me in my distant city. Dry exhausted from the forbidden area, there's a broken dream wasted before you, it's dust in the river in an athlete world with garbage, let them dictate to me.

Super highway to nowhere, no score, no scrares, it's the way you don't know me and present certificates of ownership when work needs to be done, to the discreet extent that it fits in my limited scope. It feels like you can see through, spy to object don't speak for me thinks i don't exist on the outside who cares they can move randomly alone when i have an obsession for power oppression. Lonelyness is a colour you were promoting as decay takes over with no treaty. Don't look back, leave no traces, don't shave for them, i blew away my chances. To switch off the world, and rest for a while.

For all these wasted years of solitude, there's no substitute and the fear of emptyness strikes back. It feels like being an ashtray with a legal sign not to notice. What the tide is, a sight on the horizon, bright stars of numbers we learn to avoid, later he'll dive if you don't. You read the sequence and you recognize the pathern, my brand, and there's doubt and there's misstrust but that's my only chance before you. I was a carpenter in another life, a barefoot hippy past forward the river, a shirtless bastard in a remote country, now i'm a farmer in the city. Who are you, 21, where you head, i'm a foreigner.

the more you talk, the less you think
i was spacier years ago