It comes in portions,                       potions for the tired brain.

I dig my hands in the     current,    trying to maintain.


PreCH: And      …   I fix myself another drink


to avoid the pictures       behind    my eyes

when I     blink.       I live in disguise


CH:   I     only  live   to      acquire   another   vice.

And  all the     sad songs         are   lullabies

(And   all  )   the memories are morning cries.


And   it was   never  part        of    the    plan

to    be more       far away than a  plane

drifting  to   an     unknown    land.


%d bloggers like this: