Dark stained wooden table I'll breathe when i am able For now i'll hold it in With all of my Disembodied and Unassociated sounds of departure For the night And finally breathing pitch black until I had emptied out the till Heard the tires squeal But you won't right? I swore to myself Last time was the last time In past lives i was wealthy So probably unhappy Oh i'm so glad i died I travel from point a, to point b, to point c Trying to lose more points along the way To get lower I travel from point a, to point b, to point c Trying to fall from grace along the way To get lower and lower and lower