Touched To Be Sure
I’m only someone who thinks of you
And all these thoughts replaced in time
I’ve passed bad signs
Come over the black wall clawed down
Stress signals scramble
Sound waves blur
I’m touched to be sure
Big slick shit city
Ain’t my girls pretty
If I’m not right I must be sick
But sick I must be
For right I am not
Gag if you hear me
The right hand sits smoking
The left one is strange
I visit the broadcast
In darkness
When actually I see
My girl pretty
Drive-thru windows smash my eyelids
Airborne housing makes me fly
How they prance you in your nightmask
Betroom fingers whore the world
Makes it really hold that island
Makes me really blow my siren
