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Reality's wilting around me
Words turn to liquid
And run from of the pages of books
My dreams are all stock footage
Skipping and twitching, stuck on repeat
And the official channels are all going silent
No more vapid assurances
No alarms, no surprises
Just colorless light and featureless sound
Blemishing everything
Reality is wilting around me
And my wetware is drying up
So I squeeze myself into wires
And course through the copper to
The cone of the speaker
And ride a shudder through the air
Until I slide into your head
Where I cut through the wax
And caress the little bones
Oh, I'm coming close now
Oh, I'm coming close now
I gently part the tiny hairs
And plant a serrated shard
Between the dusky folds within
A stowaway from a wilted world