Inertiatic Esp - The Mars Volta

Clipside of the pinkeye flight

I’m not the percent you think survives

I need sanctuary in the pages of this book

Gestating with all the other rats

Nurse said that my skin will need a graft

I am of pockmarked shapes

The vermin you need to loathe

Now I’m lost

Now I’m lost

Now I’m lost

Now I’m lost

Last night I heard lepors

flinch like birth defects

it’s musk was fecal in origin

as the words dribbled off of its chin

it said

I’m lost

I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

dolls wreck the minced meat of pupils

cast in oblong arms length

the hooks have been picking their scabs

where wolves hide in the company of men

it said

I’m lost

I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

are you peaking in the red

perforated at the neck

what of this mongrel architect

a broken arm of sewers set

past present and future tense

clipside of the pinkeye fountain

what of this mongrel architect

a broken arm of sewers set

past present and future tense

clipside of the pinkeye fountain

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

now I’m lost

it’s been said

long time ago

you’ll be the first and last to know

you’ll never know

you’ll never know

you’ll never know