Seasonal Ineffective

Standard

(sun sickness)

 

Caught up in a tangle of ninety-three individual days
Circadian cycles passing in some heatstroke haze
Catch up just to fall behind
And see the water fall beneath
In our heads – the only images lies
In some dusty, dried creek
Ripples of forgetful
You take what you can get
See what you still remember
Crowded pathways of those
Just waiting for December
And we sit and wait because
The global warming feels so nice today
The ice caps can melt
But we all take swimming lessons anyway
And why look over the rim of the bomb shelter
To see what the observers have to say
Oh well
We all have to die some day

 

Ninety-three days pass
And I still don’t know when we begun
I’m just waiting for the world the end
Because I’m getting just a little sick of the sun

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