Pink Anthro-Apologist Retroscripts a Brief History of the Immediate Future

Like household pets with broken necks
Their bodies dance around their heads
And I dream
In infinities, the space between
Dumb terror and the door
Rolls over itself, halves its body, breaks its back
Drags its weight
Inches, inches at a time
Like time; I'm like time

Holy ghost stirs like soup
Around the heatsink in our chests
Laysaints line up at the threshold
With our love fetish
The war is never over
But soon, when the robin comes
To sing blue velvet eggs
Off everybody's tongues

I'll breathe
And I'll speak
That's, oh that's when I'll speak

I'll speak



Credits
Writer(s): Ben Potrykus
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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