Hubris Precipice

Will Stelter

Packed up, and left on the wind
I haven’t felt it, since I don’t know when
I tried to quell restless legs
Bled out from words, and did nothing for it

So wear down the tread,
Exchanged throttle for needle and thread
Take charge to fix all that you missed, yeah
Keep what you need in the back of your head

Now you stand at the edge,
The darkest hubris precipice
So if you think you got gall,
Call in the clouds and anger the gods.

Paper wings, still-breath on the wind
Evaporated like a lit cigarette
My eyes, still muddy red
Engine let down at 20,010.

And soon you start to walk out
Cause you know, “it’s just not that far now”
And at night your mother breaks down
Cause your body, never was found

Now you stand at the edge,
The darkest hubris precipice
So if you think you got gall,
Call in the clouds and anger the gods.

I regret, I’ve got no more ink
I’ve put it down, bled out into the sink
So it seems, yeah it bleeds
When you’ve angered the gods

Now you stand at the edge,
The darkest hubris precipice