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Inchworm

de Catherine

What's with these lights? Is this an interrogation?
What's with these lights? 3rd degree in the masses eyes.
What's with these lights? Is this an interrogation?
What's with these lights? I've got nothing to say.
Beggar with a soapbox, kinesiatic with pride.
Beggar with a soapbox, the nothing just gets louder.
Build a bigger soapbox, the nothing just gets louder.
This is just another instance of strategically placed stagnation.
Move along, nothing to see here.
All our stomachs growl for the same thing.
Just another fix to us inside.
Eat, sleep, lather, rinse, repeat.
None of those things are good enough for me.

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