Lyrics

The collapsing begins

A sound is a certain way

Of conjuring

Not sure if it gives us our soul

Or gets it

Reminds us of our gut

And our ability to forget it

Reminds us of what lingers in limbs

And our option to sweat

It out

Until the body becomes

Boiled in everything it can only

Do when the back of the sun

It turned

And it does not have

To explain why it ran out the house

And straight to the place in which

Time stops

Or where you can buy that in shot

Glasses

Where tomorrow is placed on ice

And one arm will fight

With itself

Fingers find themselves

Either the fist or the gun

Hands are up again like it is the only place they know to be

Like this is BelleVille

Like viles and files are not scratched into our skin

Like there ain't vinyl as black as my fathers skin

Like music can be clean

With all this white noise

I've lost my voice so let me stay here in my silence

They tell you not to forget to go home

...

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