I gotta face that knows god
I've been as cold as stone clods
Juicing a will to feast on
spots that clumps the skin oh it degrades all over
Cannot find the patience
for your pipes and tubes
so just let me starve
and be the younger hungry kid that criticizes
all the things I can't control
I gotta face that smiles now
Revisionist slights to guilt how
generous acts and good words
moving the lips to fix the script before it's all over
Cross-armed like some pharoah
littered glitter tchotchkes
taken to the grave to be uncovered
centuries later all the guarded trophies
useless in decay
I gotta face it
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