written and produced by matt schuman at glaciers in chartreuse in quincy, ma
lyrics
my palms sweating at his velvet stride
every precious step an indication of my atrophying time
i looked at her empty face, abreast, grey
the pollen of my metastasis settling atop her thoughts
inevitably centered and i say that without any sort of judgment
but i say it with conviction
because he said to me then
well, i said to myself
i have to die
here i am in my coffin
an ironic comfort for the audience
as my nerveless pillows sets on some pillows
surrounded by beautiful bouquets
the mirth wrought from relativity
is nice, is great
they versus i, and i versus them
the inevitability of our personal extinction
trying to quash the idea from top taking root
because what more is there to the charades
unclean messes left longer than clock's demand
the thin fabric of bridges