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Vers:
the volume is up again. Closing the spaces left
within this room.
To watch instead, it's light somehow will wash
this out, this image,
from playing out with programmed time.
I'm moving in circles here, just watching this
gun, these hands,
these hours are losing count.
Waiting, wishing, there was a way to stop this.
I can't help it now. This light somehow will wash
it out, this image,
from playing out and keeping time.
Believing in all I fear, I'm breathing out, this
repeating line.
The last thing I'm seeing, is bleeding in through
the sound.
Just turn it up again. But I don't know this...
wash out the images.
And hoping that it might that it just might, not
come
again you turn and watch the screen, get up do
anything you can.
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