A stewing cup of tea reminds you of time
Slipping through the fingers like a drug addicts dime
Drifting through an ether that consists of absurd
That chapter in a book that has lost its last word
The channel on the TV says we'll be back at nine
But the eyes don't register its the end of the line
Nothing seems to phase a brain with vacancy signs
Its running out of credit as its plastic declines
But no, there's no end for the lost: the trodden down or double crossed
You've completed the level but you're killed by the boss
No, there's nothing of value to say: the black and whites drown into grey
And no matter the weather you're not going out today.
You're knocked out of orbit and your regular course
By an omnipresent concept and a murderous force
The smoke from your cigarette has lost its relief
And thinking's locked in cliche like the pulling of teeth
Each night a house of cards that will never stand strong
The reasons like the seasons but the order is wrong
Chilling back to burning back to chilling again
But nothing goes like clockwork so there's no telling when
