Second guessing won't fill time
when every idea isn't right
the flood is coming from a hole in the dam
where effort knocked our bricks clean out
caffeine dreams might numb our drowning
sweetened by mortality's kiss
but a swollen tongue will bid adieu
a hopeless scene,
my helpless thing
the sea will reach out toward our hips
fish hooks to freeze our sides
diluted eyes will watch the plan
but give in sight to pain like hunger
tickled lights and colored laughter
fill our hollow roots to tips
before the spark can drench our hearts
before red hands will reach salvation
death, as a gentleman
holds the door
He can't believe in anything
the flood will deceive us all
