Contention. Eyes listless in the swell of aging flesh
Constantly haunted by reflections of the life you could never lead
You're not climbing any ladder. You're binding in forevermore
There are woodworms eating through
Everything that defines you as you
There are holes in every aspect of your current being
It's a failing institution and a lack of egress
Now you move more like a spider, bound like a filthy rat
At the end of this road, you will find nothing
I can see it and I can feel it. Loosening the hinges on reality
