On a Tight Schedule for Killing Ourselves
Tristan Renaud
Fingers locked behind my head
Barely breathing breathing breathing
Was once there but now I fled
Just fleeting fleeting fleeting
I feel my angst in my back
Just feeding feeding feeding
I feel the noose around my neck
I'm leaving leaving leaving
Don't be sad when I'm gone
No grieving grieving grieving
I'll be more then space and time
I'll be weaving weaving weaving
Exited to see what is next
It's healing healing healing
Elevate to something else
I'm beaming beaming beaming