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discussions is for the pigs - folly lyrics

i have a block on my brain and a clock in my mouth and i’m tasting each second.
for days i’ve swallowed the hours.
striking worth into the air with words like arrows that were stuck into my knees;
to pin me to the chair, to force me to write,
i’ve got a pencil and a thousand thoughts but my wrists won’t move.
why are my thoughts the flies on a rot aloft each other in persuasive decay?
their decay is my demise.
i control this square with just enough sp-ce to envelop an affliction.
they are all dead to me.
they are all dead.
oh no, it’s a comfortable rape!
unlike any normal respite, this canon-style boredom is a crippling image.
ready to pop at any moment, red-faced children can’t vomit.
insignificantly hopeful, they are pulling on these coiled limbs;
they are taught and confined.
in this environment i am my own destruction.
relying so heavily on every possible sketch…
procrastination… lost cause… knowing nothing…

- folly lyrics

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