Saline - Idiot Stare

Thin air in your hair brain

A mounting problem for your train of thought

Misstepping through the trip wires

A fallen arc of sweat and blood

Cheese dripping from the noose

You always were a fan of drama

And paid to see loved ones' decay

On a stage too high to reach

Blind and stinging, wet and barely living

Bound and insulated yet loose enough to lie

High and crying, wasted and dying

Made to believe there’s nothing much to like

It dawned the day you knew nothing

Remember how it burned your eyes

An epitaph for no one’s glory

Collecting spit from the world outside

Tilted, forced off your axis

Clenching, bound down to the edge

Relentless, overbearing in your nature

And you’ve always pretended to be somebody else