Futile Testimony

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Lavatory Service

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I can't move, the roots look alluring
Part of them is me and this is a mutual feeling for both of us
This soil is very warm, I feel like a part of it
Disruption of the evolution, I see where the idleness got me
Watching my own self getting wounded with my new limbs that I have no control over
I think I'll stay here for a while, there's nothing else I can do besides fighting myself, but who fights oneself? 
That's immature, shit, of course that's immature
I'm becoming one of the beings that I have been watching, laughing and pitying all my sane life

The roots are coming through me
The most important thing here is not to let them grow inside my brain
I still need that piece of shit functioning (for what?) 
Apart from that, I don't fucking care, I wasn't even going anywhere

It's better just to wait it out

I think I'm starting to like this place
Soil feels nice, I was never able to feel it from that, personal, perspective
That pain will go eventually, it actually becomes soothing
My mind is God, It will do everything as needed
Cause I am a soul trapped in a body
I can go up/right
I can go down/left (let's travel, huh) 
Clockwise
It's all subjective, it's all theoretical
We are theoretical
Our very existence is questionable
So why the f*ck do I care about anything that is going on right here, right now? 
F*ck that, I can make it all go away
When i want to 
For now I'm feeling comfortable here (defensive wall) 

It's better just to wait it out

And here I am

Waiting for the tide
Waiting out the night
Waiting out the fright
Waiting
Waiting for the bite inside
Waiting 'till your world goes blind
Waiting 'till your dried heart sides 
With grasp of tragedy that guides the light

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