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    You flush a fish down a toilet and look down to
    See your second hand is dead still.
    You think them somehow connected but you can't be
    Sure and it's just as well.

    What to do next when the shit piles up?
    You can't decide.  You go outside.
    Stand in the moonlight drinking coffee from a paper cup.

    You'd almost swear you hear voices, but you know it's
    Nothing but a noisey, guilty conscience.
    You hear monotonous noises.  It's that time of night
    Its so predictable.

    Oh what a feeling to listen to your blood.
    The way it feels when it congeals,
    Like someone sucked you dry and pumped you full of rocks and mud.

    Close your eyes.
    No traffic, in or out.
    Tired eyes
    No traffic, in or out

    You won't decide anything tonight.  No need to
    Rush things, they'll keep until tomorrow.
    Just make a fresh pot of coffee and stay up
    All night and get nothing done.

    Don't you hate preference?  I know you hate choice
    Just hang your limbs out in the wind
    And clear your throat because you don't know when you'll need your

    You hope it won't be long before you're back in
    The action like a moth around a light bulb, but
    Who gets to say when the switch flips and the
    Light goes off and you fly away.

    You could be standing and watching city lights
    But where you'll be is where you'll be
    And what you do is up to you.  Stand still you've got the right

    Close your eyes
    No traffic, in or out
    Tired eyes
    No traffic, in or out

    I think I see the East, I think I see the East
    And as I face the East, I swear I taste the East
    I've got to go back East
    Where there's no traffic, in or out.

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