Cold Son

At the centre
Where they go on weekdays
It takes hours
Just to slake that thirst

Heavy heels
And a daunting post rate
Bad idea for your
Blistered toes

To my wheel well youre getting close
So say adios
The conjecturers reject the rose
Dont stay high

High
High
On abuse

Sometimes it feels
Like the worlds stuffed with feathers
Table-bottom gum
Just holding it together

A cold son
I am
Cold son
I am

You can chase it
But it wont come easy
Its a reverie
So silver-quick

It gets solid
When youre old
And hazy
Takes no leverage to make me click

To my wheel well youre getting close
The tension grows
Defy conjecture and accept the rose
Dont stay high

High
High
On abuse

Who was it that said
The world is my oyster?
I feel like a nympho
Stuck in a cloister

Cold son
I am
Cold son
I am

Face plant
You stumble ahead
Victim of your rival pretensions
Know me

Face plant
You stumble ahead
Rival to the bitter pretensions
Know me

Cold son
I am
Cold son
I am