Pynch

A golden oracle read my face

She said my paths were twofold

Do right and know her embrace

Or sleep on a park bench and die alone

Nerve endings pop at human touch

Armpits are wet ditches

Heart rate is double-bass

Pupils are triple-wide

To take in the vision

I held the future up to my eye

I'm a visual learner

But these goddamn cataracts

They make it all so blurry

The car has to flip before I'll admit

I was wrong to drive with my feet

I need the gun to my cheek before

I concede I was out of my mind

I held the future up to my eye

I'm a visual learner

But these goddamn cataracts

They make it all so blurry

We're gonna die either way, I assure you

Stuffed in shiny boxes of pine

Fifty years and we're food for worms

All matter's just a matter of time