Hmmm

Grief is an anvil to the skull
Grief has an echo that lives in silences
Inside of silences
Grief is the black ink that rushes to fill in the void she left

When nothing is okay
You knowing that you're not alone only makes it feel sadder

Loss is an evil light
That takes root behind your eyes
Illuminating what you're not ready to see
And won't let you turn away
And won't let you un-hear the venom that it has to say

When everything is fucked
You knowing that you're not alone only makes it even sadder

When everything is fucked
You knowing that you're not alone only makes it even sadder

Slumping in alleys swallowing voices cruise shaped war windows
No one's happy here we think too much of ourselves
Yet It's still not enough, you're having a plot twist
I send an asylum of good luck

Ergo we're equals is easily a mess to unwound
A changing line positing a question
Hex to impress some Rude Boy
Thomas once famously said
"The novel of bullshit is dead"
Though all the people can't be all dog, all the time
He wants you to know he's joking even when he isn't

The cat-o-nine detects avant-garde
Properly possess the shape
The hokey psychos in cardigans
I'll only get to heaven if I'm written in (that's your line)
No musicians to play (pay)
Guitars refuse the work
The flanger is in flames
The best shit is apropos of nothing so

Ergo we're equals is easily a mess to unwound
A changing line positing a question
Hex to impress some Rude Boy
Thomas once famously said
"The novel of bullshit is dead"
Though all the people can't be all dog, all the time
He wants you to know he's joking even when he isn't