atrophy.

You're going to need something to hold onto, Wanderer, You old man, you old dog [Knowing] Gnawing on a ham sandwich Half gone, And half past disaster, Mark 9— All new time zone, Get lost, before I bother you. Looking backwards in time at the weakness I've had Or the week Or the month, Or the year— Fuck the mothballs in the closer Over motorcycles, or you wanted to know Where the hole in my heart was, When I'm sure you're the one who bit it off. Goddammit dude! “The Worst Shapeshifter in History” What the fuck, man! What. You sold your soul to be on Saturday Night Live?! What else was I gonna do with it? Ah, Gee—nothin' I guess! I could be luckier I guess To have gotten what I wanted Waking up in a warm music studio I could never call home Without someone to love in it, Or roll over onto, What's a revolving door for a prophet : Word to my Nothing and NoOne Get away from me All the demons you throw out Come back to you Redefining beauty in the age of faux vanity Atrocities everlasting, And atrocity exhibition, —a aphantom on the train tracks. An epiphany. —Atrophy. c o l o r s ft. Uptown A & Happy Accidents -Ū. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©