Even Dirt Finds Its Way Home

Knifing my self from the story in the shape of my end!
Taken from sleep.
Screen the shot you’ve been lynching all your days over.
Dessert kid, even dirt finds it’s way home.
Doesn’t make it more than spec of dust caught in the breeze.
I’m so faded, I’m a ghost.
Fade right through the couch, the couch and out the house.
Self prescribing a matinee.
Demonstrating the Phantom City you’ll die within.
How the outskirts of town bury me.
Is it worth it if I’m speechless when I go out?!
Deep breath. 'Cause if you’re hesitant.
Wasted. You’ll keep receding.
Fading away. So I’ll separate myself from the ground.
Empty when they dish me out!
Airwaves will adopt my body!
Empty when they dish me out!
…And you just can’t sleep