Full magazines of pain in unending supply driven In to my gut – trigger finger pressing at my mind. How is a man so sick he can't get right with god? Asphyxiating permanence drags on and on. I'm enslaved to that force which prepared me for life. Enmity with no end pulls the puppet strings around my spine. On and on. What makes a man so sick he can't get right with god? Asphyxiating permanence drags on and on.