[Verse 1]

So this is what I’m reduced to

Obsession with the process

Pushed to pride in worthless things

Stumbling into eastbound trains

I’m caught in their littered slats

I’m eaten alive by filthy archways

Crusted with soot and leavings

The tufted hundreds gather ‘round

And stare with eyes like sovereign rings

But I can withstand a curling

No camouflage, no truck

I travel up between the cracks

Bodies form other crevices

There is another there, along from me

Looking around, but mostly aside

Papеr fills the seats between

Hair drapеs down over

Some new form of relentless inactivity

Beaten down into idiocy

[Verse 2]

Putting into correct perspective my suffering

I was concerned for my welfare

So I cut it off with a knife

Clicking Spanishly

And did I mention Jesus?

Anxious children wait in rows

I’ll keep the trophy for myself