Last night I found my self-assurance on trial.
Forgot what they wrote down when listing my crimes:
The murder of gods or blurring the lines?
The window from my cell reflecting the light a man who resembles my profiles sometimes.
More on the days I’m getting it right.
I lied, when I said I was that man.
I’m grey and it’s true so out of tune.
At times, when smoke clears from the headlights.
The clearest view of how you lose.
Whatever’s gone astray, we found it alight.
The best of us held up on circus display.
Drowning our sides to keep it that way.
What’s now as clear as day w...