Backed into a corner, dissolving the geometry all around me, I'm a sick old soul with a cardboard box for lungs, I plague the signs and I don't know where they're coming from, the structure of reality bends over and denies me, I move till time draws the line, over analyze never sympathize, getting high just to stay alive, struggle till they see you crowding the sidewalk, cased aside, seeking your demise, get back up, face the geometry you left behind, leave again try again, service behind every mistake hidden by all the lies, try to compromise, only then will you realize, I try to speak and you say your goodbyes, running in the street denying your defeat held by only your fucking teeth.