Looking in
My mind sandwiches my thoughts
Into more than a close call
I fall from the branches
As if falling through an open window
The slow suicide
Leads to insomnia
As if my mind were spinning like a ceiling fan
Looking in
My mind sandwiches my thoughts
Into more than a close call
I fall from the branches
As if falling through an open window
The slow suicide
Leads to insomnia
As if my mind were spinning like a ceiling fan