Freedom In Death

There's freedom in blankets of void Petulant perception provides but a wash cycle I'm driven from miles high to sink back among Notorious ransacking nothingness I hear the lips clapping Smacking on ill digested words The movement and oasis Triggering fog mirror chase The grand rent payment in the sky Where life is as dull as television programming A nauseating mess of mistaken identity Trading for each other's improvement When does it end by barrels of day When thinly gripped outstretched pointlessness Careers from the balcony of hope And lands plummeting in apparent falseness