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• Artiste: Weeping Tile
• Titre: Poked
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I poked my eye with my finger Lying on the bed Now I'm sneezing and I'm blowing And I can't clear my head Is the pressure in the air from an August storm thats rumbling? I try not to care about it now Your pressure's down, anyway All alone I know I give in to chances Hold out yourself Your mental health Your surreal circumstances I try to keep it separate A built in third eye effacing every line I got a built in bad feeling that doesnt go away with time Lined up in a row Shadowless figurines come up from below What they figure I figure I dont want to know There are two of us What I am what I was To be seen and not to be mistakenly taken serious Well there are two of us What I am what I was At the end of the millennium We'll soon be replaced by replicas All lined up in a row Shadowlesss figurines come up from below What they figure for me I dont want to know Leave the light on as you go Leave the...