The Wheel

I'm recouping myself on this cheap diesel coffee
I will crash, and then sputter some more
Until I am cycled past parallel nights
Wash the mornings away through my pores

Filter sulfur and water through pebbles and stones
And something will give way to grow
But the cracks in my mind are all shifting and dry
I need to stop shaking, I have to drive home.

I'm thinking, I'm drinking, I'm sowing my seeds
In sync with the deep sleep I'm losing, I'm shaking and bruising
And boiling the leaves in the black kettle pot.

I know it sounds harsh, but its hard and I'm grateful
If my plate took a toll, then it gave me day full
Of this thinking, and drinking, and amorous winking
I'm flaunting my knowledge, I'm taking it sinking.

I swerve and I turn past the people I'm choosing
They're coming out at me, they've come to attack me
And roaring I rumble. I rise, never stumble...
I mumble back at them... It hits me, I mumble...

"An empty cup emitting layers of steam?"
My vision went black, but it's only a dream...

I'm hanging by the waist when the breeze blows me by
My head shoots the windshield, I snap up at the sky.
From the leaves on the floor flash the lights on the route
And the dream catcher's picking the black garbage out.

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