Archaic Volumes

Look in these volumes carrying thoughts of mine
Down secret driveways, song & cuts in my flesh
Not just your humor interrogating divine
A simplicity everyone sees but me

I'm repeating patterns spiral & lines
I'm ghosting the throttle into the grind
These archaic volumes won't ever really be heard
Hunted collected, keepsakes I've burned
Kept under floors like hoarded fortunes
Folk lore & fad with destructive surging
Destiny dogs keep barking & lurching
These archaic volumes won't ever really be heard

Down in those volumes under the bar mats & brine
Lost in the clutter, drunken banter, and glare
Left them like scrapts, like unseen villains
Longing to get their due
No secret shanking, just public hangings
With last meal and rights
These archaic volumes won't ever really be heard