The sordid memories were chasing me
Along the swollen latitudes of a rotten globe
Its time to hang them up
Like sweaty clothes out the window
Once i used to care about coming home
The feeling drowned out easy by the engine drone
Along the bloated longitude of a rotten globe
I always came back
With some long story to tell
Tinged with the helplessness
Of unrelatable detail
But like the monotony of a metronome
I always come home
1 | Separated At Birth |
2 | Confluence |
3 | Plastic Surgery |
4 | Complete Works |
5 | Bearing Witness |
6 | Southeast First |