Whitevan - ohGr

Just around 5 o’clock

Cars are screaming around the block

The boy is scared and looking around

He’s feeling a little bit anxious

I think he’s searching for his mother

What did you find?

On the white van

Facing this prospect I set out for today’s

Over-introspection, I feast upon decay

Around me is misfortune, my avenue, all spades

Digging all the so-called diggers

Digging his own grave

Permit me Mr. Indecision watch his machine cave

End up on itself and watch one debit I win and mince our way

The seats are best from over there out beyond the shade

My diggers in their dirty coats their attitudes of spades

Passing the inspection, No!

Now this is every day

Special forces, special boots

The stomper comes to pay

Fancy men so over-suited for the final days

Keep the prince in timely chintz

Ring out the barren child at bay

Christen the disaster

At least that’s what I say

Into which the thing determines which rate he decays

Keeping loads of sunshine

I love the job I play

Digging out this whole shitty world

Digging it today

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

White world

Good afternoon

What else did you find?

It’s not color blind

Feel indication

My vindication

To know nothing exists

Opens all to «what and if»

Portions of my emptiness

Sitting by the open door

Looking up to take it out

Settle in to catch a show

Re-situation

Dead indication

Feels like a clock I ate

Ticking in this toxic state

Ready for an occupant

Suck it up to sniff the paint

Sniffing up the weakest link

Rising from the righteous stink

See simulation speak

To take a piece of me

Hold onto walls of life

Pull the chain, when burning bright

In a copter raise the rope

Firmly placed around my throat

Aging worm at sanding counters

Slipping through my finger burn

Each a seclusion

My own intrusion

Upon my waking state

Each of us must face their fate

Crawling wicked, crawl some more

Broken body pray on floor

Pulling through to face a flaw

Pushing back to push some more