Soft lips
Sharp voice
Holding on to the silence and the noise

No joy
Yet no pain
Intoxication suffocating our brains

Yet no beauty
But, boy,
Did you get some booty?

We’ll tell ourselves, This is good, this is what I’m after
When thoughts can’t be ignored with fake laughter

Strong hands
Weak mind
Trying to change our perspective; blind

Grappling at the wrong hands in the night
To ensure we don’t have to face the coming fight,

Cover by Jan Zhukov