Measure Of.

Matter in a vacuum
The weight of your words fall soft,
Collapsing in, the paper shredding
It was a phatic attempt.
A pavement view of construction
I stumbled across your quest for definition
Fell face first into the dirt.
What a hole you dig, what a life you lead
Commanding a vision, demanding the idea.
I sit and watch you twist
What you told yourself is reality,
Taking no part in the public hanging
The view's better from back here
I can come and go as I please,
The exit seat
The electric chair,
Is buzzing, drips of sweat
Fall as you stammer
Allergic to the question.
I see your romance
About three or four times a week
Confirm it with an ought to,
A should, an expectation.
Dinner sounds ghastly
We could stir the primordial soup with some cream,
Wash it down with a vessel of gluttony and watch the scene
On repeat a thousand times more
But my hair will be different
And I'll speak with your tone
We can go forth and build a happy home.
I'll go back to my seat now
Sit out this next song
The words are like haiku
But they read twice as long.
Just for effect the motorcade routes along
Down the same street with respect for the prongs
The bench marks, to stop. To celebrate
The measure of life with a fresh coat of paint
Is everybody in?
The show's about to begin
The roulette is rolling and no one can win.