Free&Void - Themselves

You will never be lucked in this world boy

So sadly picked for a thick fitting of silk

Bathed in brandy, then dried to perfection

In the six month width of Alaskan sun

So you might won, so you might win

Worlds over effortlessly, nah boy

You will be shown how to work the crank that

Turns the streets to face the rich and just reflect them

And if fools can have songs about nothing but wealth…

Damned if I’m a not sick whole sonnets on death

To ring a needle width a light out of the dark I crept

And for those who slept fuck em now I know

Exactly which whay I oughta be sending the wolves

When we meet, cause I have had my fill

Of seeing this flesh hit teeth, it’s like me

Calling blood back to the front of my cuts

To do what, to wear pants to wipe blood

To cut luck, to… not walk and sleep

At the same time

I think of paper thin wounds

And mile long lines…