there's something in the middle of this
i'm not so clairvoyant to see it
but it's scaring me and thrilling me
and it's causing me too much ****
that i'm starting to lose the touch;
the numbing of my finger tips
is only from the callouses from playing
and they linger, although now
i hardly play.  i only sing.  not well.

it frees my head, let's me feel
less dead; alive in five, i say.
not jive, less to survive for
as we're sure this is where it stays
before the ending, we're entranced;
caught in another ring of life
straining to see the light in the tunnel
as we funnel all the information
to our brains.  to be insane.  to be a frame...


for that picture