6six6

When strategy recants you Inept patterns spark muscles through networks of satin dreams Cut through a chance of sacred hope to forget taken without thought Turning inside out the odd shapes turned to prism by its own fate When all looks red light sparkled with green and grey dots perpetual resident haunted feet Your golden circus has arrived with coffee When given a number corresponding to the chances of death The darkness sky's reveal the moment of our lies 6, couldn't spell it better without another 66 Who wouldn't hold onto something so dear for a long honest time But not to some feeling that makes you weak not for some feeling that doesn't hear speech