Week

[Verse 1: Ed Scissor]
A racing heart, a speeding bullet
A hint of life, a rush of fluids
The darkness of that winter night, a siren livin' in disguise, a violent river running through it
Before the days of painted glass
Before the earth was watermarked
A crimson tide of deathly figures danced upon our fleshy innards laughing as they left their
Mark
That was then
And this now
Everything between is but a bubble in the stream, a dream discovered in the sea of things that come around
So come around
And make your mark
You have precisely seven days before the dirt washes away to leave a vessel made of broken parts
Dangerous liaisons in an ultrasonic space, a vessel floating on the waves we trace with nothing but our instincts
Undefined and un-fathomed
I start the whip you spark a spliff, your lungs blacken, (I want it all)
Everything and nothing in a bucket full of wanderlust
One of them old summers in the [dust in day we record breaking?] love'll save the day shit kinda clusterfucks
Give it all, push the button, self-combust

Everything you own and are is everything I've ever needed this week
Seven days of mystery and intrigue, and where the fuck has this been, a never ending episode in complete shits creek
A general admission to some half-baked heartbreak
Starts the very moment that we part ways
But actually remember when we first jabbered with such passion at that party
Surrounded by them other motherfuckers filled with heartache
Them guys, no they weren't for us
But you, you ticked the boxes stunningly
So graceful with your brown hair, brown eyes, Pocahontas standing right in front of me
The signs of my discovery
Discovering the new lands with two hands, just one touch the sand gushed from my grasp but dumb clutz so clumsily
How gravity can fuck a plan so thoroughly
Seven days to hasten our recovery

Monday
The forming of a club makes for Tuesdays
No ordinary love made on Wednesday
Performative and un-phased, fortify delusions of an epic journey un-paved to Thursday
Two hoarders in the sun-rays, Friday
Two ballers in a drug maze Saturday
The corners of the club cave on Sunday
One way
Here comes
Monday

A racing heart, a speeding bullet
A hint of life, a rush of fluids
The darkness of that winter night, a siren livin' in disguise, a violent river running through it
Before the days of painted glass
Before the earth was watermarked
A crimson tide of deathly figures danced upon our fleshy innards laughing as they left their
Mark
That was then
And this is now
Everything between is but a bubble in the stream, a dream discovered in the sea of things to come around
So come around
And make your mark
You have precisely seven days before the dirt washes away to leave a vessel made of broken parts