There's static on the computer screen. It's not so much that the information's fading than it's taking over everything. There's too many lines to read between. It looks less like a page and more like a body. If I could know everything, then why does it feel like these buttons are attached to my body? My fingers feel glued. My eyes are pasted to the cathode ray tube. The word is over. There's a shining sheen between every sentence in this scene. There's no forethought in this race. There's no truth left to chase.
Track Name: Brainquakes
I see a small portion of a letter, sent into the mailbox of a complete stranger. Set into the ink there was a tiny bit of glass -- the clarity of feeling on a printer's pass. The raw excuses. The sliding sheets of rock. I could tell myself almost anything if I thought it would take a little less time to fall back into place. I feel a tremor. I guess lying to yourself isn't the answer to feeling small. These words -- I don't know who this even serves. Is this a document or sold out by its ill intent?
Track Name: Law Firm
If I could change it then I'd like to think I would, but I can't break the ocean. I'm tired of walking around my neighborhood, feeling lost. If I was a sailor, I'd take to the seas. I'd let the ocean wrap itself around me, 'cause I'd rather be lost as sea than tied to the shore. I'm feeling lost and I'm feeling cold. Goddamn, when did I get so old?