A Prayer For My Death Foetus

Nose on the floor, still suckin' the silt
Seven car brainwreck skewered with guilt
I'm up to my throat tho' I'm standin' on stilts
The spirit is wilting and the flesh is on the tilt
The strain is showing as the veins pop outta the side of the head
They burst, bloodying the pristine driven snow
Dribbling in burning tributaries all the way down to San Antone
Next stop your primal prognosis
And you're prostrate prone

The waste of humanity and my times past permeate, nay, clog the air
Cling to my clothes and cloud my vision
Decay my inner ear
Every wasted word and useless moment crowds around
To remind you of your own futility
Remind you of your lack of mobility
Soundwaves clog the eyes and air in retribution for their misuse
They never dissapate - they just go to hell to regroup

It ain't the heat, it's the taint of humanity
It ain't my humility, it's the man in me
And it be screamin'
Get out
I want out
Get out
I want out
Get out
I need
Release