The further down this ladder you go, you watch solids fade into disarray. Imperfect motions compete and complete. Smoke screens and mirrors - I watch you disappear.
So surround all your guilt with chains and change, and those slaughtered lambs - our superstitions. Assuage hard patterns, who gives, who dies, who lives? All those one-time things, for each a sedative.
You'll find some way for them to carry you home. Latch onto a weakness, call it your own. Your walls of brick and stone, burn up your bags like your told. Act out your suspicions and I'll pretend to know you. Maybe I'm looking back at uneven scores. Maybe I'm the only one.