Running Through the Back Brain
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Running through my backbrain in the morning I think that what I'm getting is a warning Messages are scrambled but they're urgent Something in the cortex 'bout detergent I think it's coming clearer I can see it in the mirror Heading for a relapse Clogging up the synapse Or is it just Cassandra yawning? Killers in the streets are wearing striped pants They are interfering with my larynx My brother and my sister joined the army They promise that they do not mean to harm me Messages messages Persecution Persecution messages messages..... Now it's growing dimmer I can see the mirror shimmer Sounds are getting stranger Warning me of danger Or can it be that I am merely tired? There's a roaring in my ears that will not die And signals in the sky I can't identify My eyes are melting and my lips are moving And the words that I am hearing are not soothing Breathing's getting harder There's nothing in the larder The building's falling over Or the Sun is going nova Or is it my old-fashioned paranioa? I think that it's important information Giving me my future destination Fragments of mysterious conversation Lend the game a frightening complication I know they're trying to tell me What can they want to sell me? The floor is undulating My bones are soft and aching Or have I temporarily lost my bearing? Every little sound is charged with meaning Percentage bandits riding out of ealing Stuttering, shouting, crying, and declaiming Sentences are waxing, now they're waning I'm nearly out of letters From my elders and my betters The Killer's moving faster He tells me that he's my master Or was he just asking me "the time please?"