[Verse 1] There is this force in me. It is powerful, a muffled thrust. Like a storm of metal behind the plaster. The will grips the structure. But I cannot touch it. The nail scratches an impurity on the chrome. I cannot see it. I cannot feel it. The support is total, but the center is empty. [Pre-Chorus] And it is almost. A vibration of the stopper. It is almost. The word is in the throat. [Chorus] It is almost. It is almost. Almost. Almost. [Verse 2] The leather of the catch-all tray. The wedding ring at the center. I am the fixed point. The framework of those who sleep. The force is a beam between the ribs. But the hand is no longer mine. A cog. That's all. The bite is fixed. [Outro] Already done. Again. Almost seen. [Silence]
