(Still) Basically A God

Reading the body keeps a score
I can't tell who's winning, but I'm feeling pretty sore

More symptoms to ignore

Bracing leads to pacing
Leads to shingles, I'm sure

The hard part
Once I begin
To look down without falling in

I'm still wading through mud
And I'm still
Out here for blood

The weight of its years makes this ship hard to steer
But I guess it just will
'til I'm customizing cushions on the couch

The insurrection in my nose has me breathing through my mouth
Every sign or confirmation of my declining respiration
Then my friend, Nyquil, takes me out

The hard part
Once I begin
To look down without falling in

I'm still wading through mud
And I'm still
Out here for blood

The weight of its years makes this ship hard to steer
But I guess it just will
'til I'm still...

We don't deserve saving
Years off, we keep shaving

But then, watching some birds pick apart
An overly laid-back squirrel

I can feel my own mortal coil start to come unfurled
I'm unfurled

I'm basically a god, in the sense
I distort time and space, I'm so dense

So abandon your cars, hope you're rich enough for Mars
Because I haven't ruled out meteors yet



Credits
Writer(s): Benjamin Liebsch, Benjamin Roth, Jonathan Smith, Joseph Fuscia
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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