(hypnotic / trippy) [low room tone, slow inhale through paper, resin crackle, distant clock that never lands on a second] Verse 1 I sit with the whole damn room inside my teeth Every grain of dust has a name I never asked for The lamp hums a frequency that knows my pulse Green haze lifts the corners of the afternoon I notice the way the floorboards argue with the light I notice my own breath counting me out of the chair This is it all, pressed flat against the skull No mercy in the noticing, only more of it Chorus It all, it all, coming through the smoke Insanity of noticing every hanging thread It all, it all, the high won’t dim the load I see the stitch, I see the hand that pulled it Take another pull and still the world stays loud It all keeps arriving, I can’t look away [exhale bloom, paper hiss, a laugh that starts in the chest and dies in the throat, soft leaf-rustle that isn’t leaves] Verse 2 Ash draws a map no one meant to draw The window holds a tree that keeps rewriting itself I catch the exact second a thought becomes a weight Marijuana turns the volume up and the speed down I swear I can hear the paint drying on the wall I swear the silence has fingerprints Noticing is a fever that doesn’t break It all is not a metaphor. It is the room. Chorus It all, it all, coming through the smoke Insanity of noticing every hanging thread It all, it all, the high won’t dim the load I see the stitch, I see the hand that pulled it Take another pull and still the world stays loud It all keeps arriving, I can’t look away [heartbeat under the mix, a bottle tap twice, wind against glass, a distant dog that might be memory] Bridge Fuck the tidy story that says you can choose the scale Once you see the grain you live inside the grain The bud is only a door with no handle on this side I walk through anyway, eyes wide, mouth dry Every object is a sermon I never booked The insanity is not the vision. It’s the fact I stay. Chorus It all, it all, coming through the smoke Insanity of noticing every hanging thread It all, it all, the high won’t dim the load I see the stitch, I see the hand that pulled it Take another pull and still the world stays loud It all keeps arriving, I can’t look away [paper crumple, a match that doesn’t catch the first time, long held breath, then a slow release that sounds like fabric] Verse 3 Night comes in without asking permission The same noticing wears a colder coat I laugh once, ugly, because the joke is the noticing itself Resin on the fingers, truth on the tongue Nothing hides. Nothing needs to. I am the one who keeps looking. That is the sentence. Chorus It all, it all, coming through the smoke Insanity of noticing every hanging thread It all, it all, the high won’t dim the load I see the stitch, I see the hand that pulled it Take another pull and still the world stays loud It all keeps arriving, I can’t look away [final inhale, ember tick, room tone swelling then thinning, one last dry laugh, fade on a clock that still never lands] Outro It all. Still here. Still noticing.
