[verse 1] The ski clings tightly to its track — The inertia of habitual motion. We drift in drowsy oblivion, Where lies become a self-devotion. Upon white zinc — the Atlas of Being, Collinear thoughts dissolve in dust. Like ergot hidden deep in rye — We’ve lost the selves we once could trust. [chorus] The slanting shadow of the heavens dissects us — The sacred logic of a cold incision. And in that leap — a fierce obsession: Distension — human antithesis. A livid face in the cut of the void Erases the rim of a phantom reflex. From cold-blooded, lifeless beauty We enter illusion’s woven context. [verse 2] The local world stands still, like formalin, Replacing truth with lilac decay. We are but bones and lengthened spines, In white-hot silence laid away. A spoon descends into the left palm — A parting sign of a frightened fiend… Inside, an icy fire ascends, Savoring truth, austere and keen. [bridge] With a nimble paw and a driven needle, She draws the line ‘twixt “is” and “eternity.” My face — a cuvette filled with resin, Absorbed into dead extremity. Cut! Flash! Muscle spasm! Pulse! Snap! No turning back! [chorus] The slanting shadow of the heavens dissects us — The sacred logic of a cold incision. And in that leap — a fierce obsession: Distension — human antithesis. A livid face in the cut of the void Erases the rim of a phantom reflex. From cold-blooded, lifeless beauty We enter illusion’s woven context. [outro] The lesson is over. The protocol sealed. With a nimble paw… With a sticky shred… Licking… left… The livid face.
