My skin gets thicker, covered in needles and spikes.

Like the dog outside that says it owns the street.

Well I ain't no dog, but I can bite.

I can't stop this wagon we're on. This ride might be our last.

Sea-monkeys, blue Mr.Freeze. A permanent stain on the carpet of my memory.

This is it, no epiphany.

We'll dot the eye and we'll give it some life. Bring it to life.

Make it over with some paint and a blowtorch.

Break the cycle of work and sleep and work and sleep

Thumbjam app and ebru