The Rifle's Spiral

You pour your life down the rifle's spiral
And show us you've earned it.
Cleric's fog will recede right before your eyes.

So long to this wretched form.
Them grey eyes on the subway.
Long before you were born.
You were always to be a dagger floating
Straight to their heart.

Listen, now, we won't tell anyone.
But you're gonna tell the world.
So life ain't been any fun.
Let your viscera unfurl.

As you rise, rise from your burning fiat,
Go, go get my suitcase, would you?
You've thoroughly blown their mind.
And now I must have passage on the lines
To the veins from your heart.

You're not invisible, now.
You just don't exist.
Your mother must be so proud.
You sublimate yourself, granting us a wish.

Primitive mural on the wall,
To fortify your grim resolve.
Amid the glitz of a shopping mall
Another grain of indigent salt for the sea.

Goodnight to these wretched forms
All them grey eyes on the subway
So long before you were born
you were always to be a dagger floating
straight to their heart.