The 2 A.M Writer

The Great Sea

Another day trapped in this box

Another night cramped yet comfy

I only have so much numb left

Walls down and little soldiers pouring in

Burn the utopia and scar the children

I\'m on fishhooks and drenched in vinegar

I\'ll bait the doctor to fix me

But pull away from the sea and fly away on euphoric wings

But even those will soon drop me back in

Calling, paging Dr. Christ

But even now he remains a dusted bond

...

Great big crack in the sky

Pull me with delusions of epiphany

But then the sun will burn

And I\'ll be back, trapped under the great sea