But even monoliths can lie.
I asked a deaf man what he heard,
But I recognized the answers
Before he could reply.
The chase is just a waste of time.
I plant the dead weeds in the stone,
But under moonlight they will thrive.
It's so intriguing how dead grows,
Treading ground much like a cancer,
Eating up what's left alive.
The end is such a friendly sight.
I'm breaking bread after I eat.
I'm hiding crumbs under my case.
I'm putting static on repeat,
And I'm begging for the let down.
I'm begging for the chase
To be over in the next town,
To be finished posthaste.