Throwing down some heavy vignette,
We push inebriation to its darkest edges.
It fit like a sock and you rocked down the hall
Like your parents would never come home,
But now you're the own that has grown.
The toast clinks when you sink into glass
That makes a delicate spread of time's passage,
When you see what's been running around inside
What mixes to make the lightheaded stage.
The bed is under hot focused flares
And I'm igniting in my sheets.
I'm working for a dream,
Because don't wanna wake up to a nightmare,
And if I'm burning up, I'm just gonna climb higher.