Crack a bottle over my feelings to celebrate my demons,
Give a few dollars to the devil to give me some more reasons,
And I’m reaching but my arm is heavy and the sky is far, far up,
In this mousetrap basement with all the scars to protect me til’ my number’s called up,
Swallow my tongue to make room for my upper jaw to eat my chin,
Then my neck into my throat and finally, in a circular motion, my brain and its din is within,
Consuming myself, my heroic erosion,
Left my beating heart on the steps to where I was supposed to be going.