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Rosalie

de Great Grandpa

The path in her brain gets rewarded again
Where it hardens and strengthens in a looping refrain
And masked specters of the past reveal themselves against her will
To slide in this moment, alive again pro tem

There’s an endless expanding drawn in the eyes
A soul decomposing, a body alive

Rosalie lives, lives on her own
Scared like a German shepherd, in the back of the yard
Wait till morning, cares coming by
Changing her clothes, listening to

Odd things, throw the cereal on the ceiling
Stretched screams, shallow skin, swollen feet

Rosalie lives, lives with her own
Home like a TV sitcom, and her kids in the car
Wait till nighttime, see her again, hollow and thin
Wading through

Odd things, throw the cereal on the ceiling
Stretched screams, swollen speech, void of meaning
Sad scenes can be beared, can be handled
No thing keeps me up, keeps us screaming

It’s the hardest part, the hardest part
Just a relentless regress

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