schrodinger's mistress

the hat isn't wearing me
the wings make the man but lately there has been a lack of wind
skeletons stay singing sad songs in the summertime
i could only see the sun in her eyes
there is a meth lab in her smile
i'm strung out and trying to remember how to drive
apocalypse pony running in first
a dead leg ahead
a stone's throw behind
i've got nobody on my side
dream vs. memory
nearsighted nostalgia
my very fabric aches with the idea you may call upon me again
the witching hour, a small cloud of grey
clearly we kill each other
you are cryptic and sick
your lipstick says it all
your ending will be the best part
time keeps ticking away yet i'm caught in traction
stuck on stuck
listless and making a list of reasons to live
justifying why i exist
i opened the box and found nothing but but dead cats
they seem to be doing fine now that i'm not looking tho