Reality's wilting around me Words turn to liquid And run from of the pages of books My dreams are all stock footage Skipping and twitching, stuck on repeat And the official channels are all going silent No more vapid assurances No alarms, no surprises Just colorless light and featureless sound Blemishing everything Reality is wilting around me And my wetware is drying up So I squeeze myself into wires And course through the copper to The cone of the speaker And ride a shudder through the air Until I slide into your head Where I cut through the wax And caress the little bones Oh, I'm coming close now Oh, I'm coming close now I gently part the tiny hairs And plant a serrated shard Between the dusky folds within A stowaway from a wilted world