Besedila: Drexel. Track 03.

What could I be on, What could I be on, There's not a word yet, Haven't felt like this in days. Now we'll never know why you had to go, you were a deep black ray of sunshine Never went for show, never gave a fuck you always said so. Times like these have tested better men in better ways, Flyers on the wall, pictures of you staring back There's not a word yet. The longer you wait, the longer it takes. Living inside of a tube. Sitting inside a deathtrap. Can't wait, or settle for what works anymore, just like it never lasted longer before, pull back ignoring what you know to be sure, like you said, what you said, when you told me, eyesight, it triggers what the soul used to know, no flight, the thinking manifests and it shows, who's right, the white horse or the black horse, who knows. On a flagless memorial day of my choice, marks an end to the zip code physics of my life, a quarter mile's not distant, but surely makes a difference. Walk away from you