I shudder and shake
Swerve across the road
And every single spinning axis
Is in perfect tune.
Singing the same song
Singing the same words
But my direction is untold.
Out of time and out of touch
Arriving home, in the worst possible kind of time.
Being static, is the only thing I can not stand.
I want my hand to become the pen
My pen to become my hand
And to excite myself again.
The cogs whir
As we begin to shudder and shake
Singing
These words mean nothing!
They don't even exist.