Cyclic Thinking

this infinite machine inside of me
fucking everything thoroughly
no matter who i try to be
it rages on destructively

I need and bleed and read and plead
but total shit keeps flooding me
it clogs my mind and wrecks my soul
it drains my heat and leaves me cold

in times of desperation
my pistol looks delicious
in times of abjuration
my hope becomes fictitious

all traces of progress gone
i’m back in initial footprints
it’s the same thing
the same thing
the same thing
the same thing
nothing new to bring

nobody has anything new
it’s all been done that was to do
and now they’re following you
you can not grasp you’re deeply screwed

but we still have to try
when the well runs dry
we start the fire anyway
and the dust bowl begins

same as it always has
with cell phones and group homes
as it will always be
infinite debt and mechanical loans