trocc

you ask what is the quality of life?
seeking to justify the part you play
and hide, fearing it incomplete, to try
to make it any more or less than short and sweet



so yeah, crash-sick and sleep-mad i'm drifting thru another evening and a song comes on that refreshes memories, images coming out of the static of daily drudgery

casting back to nights that unfolded, opened up to more - immobile on my living room floor, headlights flashing on the walls and the housecat sporting haloes - utter verbal breakdown, motor skills lost and mind racing

this album served as the waves my mushroom-addled brain surfed on many of those nights



i can't breathe anymore. i miss the expansiveness of time. the space to do nothing.

and i'm cut with my own knife
is this a dream or is it real life?
oh sleep, come on me soon
i can't bear this lonely room