Mason Proper Point A To Point B
Dark stained wooden table
I'll breathe when i am able
For now i'll hold it in
With all of my
Disembodied and
Unassociated sounds of departure
For the night
And finally breathing pitch black until
I had emptied out the till
Heard the tires squeal
But you won't right?
I swore to myself
Last time was the last time
In past lives i was wealthy
So probably unhappy
Oh i'm so glad i died
I travel from point a, to point b, to point c
Trying to lose more points along the way
To get lower
I travel from point a, to point b, to point c
Trying to fall from grace along the way
To get lower and lower and lower