Microdose

Amid the subway gloom is writ the ghost of creed There is no drink or lie strong enough to keep the day away The air outside is thin and wrong The day evades our inspection and slouches along Unstirred by plans and ambitions of ours We take up space in its supply of hours The day's not troubled by us These 'mazed street-lit hours are host To a rusted strain of enlightening A stumbling bodhisattva's rolling dream I lost myself again When I found myself again I found I'd been refined in my absence I bless myself with ruin I see our old inn That rusty vault of too broad a memory Amid the subway gloam is writ the ghost of creed There is no drink or lie strong enough to keep the day away Size or scene can't matter What I see, I want to hold It's easier for you to tell me what's the matter Than for me to figure out what's the matter on my own But this four AM baits my oldest dream Of a night so achingly full of restless breathing That it has no choice but to roll on for all time Outlandish chance, unwilling to land such thin dice I lost myself again When I found myself again I found I'd been refined in my absence I bless myself with ruin I see our old inn That rusty vault of too broad a memory Amid the subway gloam is writ the ghost of creed There is no drink or lie strong enough to keep the day away I lost myself again When I found myself again I found I'd been refined in my absence I bless myself with ruin I see our old inn That rusty vault of too broad a memory