Comfortable - Ice Choir

Here in a song, patterns crash to a joyful death

Curious lights and supports to which I must bend

As the tendrils recoil, i am short of breath

An indelible magic that they extend

From the background

To the foreground

A game of satisfaction:

A means of getting comfortable

Or sensual reaction

A new escape

Here we are, but maybe not for long

Can it wait?

Here in a song where my conscience will never bow

Cars speeding past, in the median of the road

Think fast, could it burn if i let it glow?

Not too deep, not a waste, if it’s functional

In the face of planned obsolescence

A design without ergonomic limits

Measures bound in whimsy

Gently sanded by nihilism

Denouncing all but amusement

All but enchantment

A game of satisfaction:

A means of getting comfortable

Or sensual reaction

A new escape

Here we are, but maybe not for long

Can it wait?

From the background

To the foreground

From the playground

To the graveyard

A game of satisfaction:

A means of getting comfortable

Or sensual reaction

A new escape

Here we are, but maybe not for long

Can it wait?