Atrophy

torn muscles hang from the line

sun-dried, now it's time for the feast

and i wait in line with plate in hand

but you've eaten all there is

and my bones weep

i was never meant to...or maybe i was...

never meant to...or maybe i was...never meant to

head raging and i'm so tired

can't stand any more of this

when the state of the living

is as the state of the dead

such disillusionment is the end

painstaking - every move a labor

gnarled and ravaged bones protrude

and i want to smear the disease across my ribs

in the name of the father . . . atrophy begins

i was never meant to...or maybe i was...

never meant to...or maybe i was...never meant to

left here, now on this precipice

sun-dried tendons slide away

into the cracks of desert sand

my skeletal smile begs for more

i was never meant to...or maybe i was...

never meant to...or maybe i was...never meant to

but like a trestle underwater, like a trestle underwater,

like a trestle underwater, like a trestle underwater, like a trestle underwater,

i drown too… i drown too… i drown too… i drown too…

i drown too…