Slipping from Metronome by Synovial

A penitentiary off-white creeps into view.
Toe tapping, alarm clocks, my eyes glued.
To the back of my head.
I’m in circles again.
Slipping out of the way.
Back in circles again.

I must have made a wrong turn.
Lucky for me I don’t mind where that takes me.
Nothing lasts anyway.

Wires crossed.
Stuck in a daze.
I recognize the old haunts that welcome me with the same old tenderness.
That give me all I needed.
All I wanted.
As if I never left them, because they know I never could.

And we take steps.
Making eyes at a collection that I know I could devour.
Nothing's gonna stop me.
I am befit to take, to seize, to pay, with whatever I can find.
To get my fill.
To get my way.
To feed.
To mend the ache.

Nothing lasts, if I don’t let it.

You get used to the patterns.
But a lot gets lost in translation.
Like what I’ve done or who I’ve replaced.
For that, I know won’t be granted any Grace.

And I sink a little deeper.
Same old song and dance.

Sun goes down again.
And the rat race begins.
My conscience on the mend, I gotta find my alchemist.
To barter with what little I have left.
To barter with what I have.

Wires crossed.
Stuck in a daze.
I recognize the old haunts that welcome me with the same old tenderness.
That give me all I needed. All I've wanted.
As if I never left them because they know that I never will.

Surrounding the edges of town, I grit my teeth and pound at my head.
Make it stop, let it end, but I can’t go back again.
Avoid a few more trap doors.
Till I can reel another in.

And it’s not so bad, when it tastes so good.
Weave a web or two.
And be sure not to catch your reflection.
Till the cycle ends.
When the blood runs cold.
And you catch your breath.
Leave a web or two.

Leave a note.
Just in case.
But in your slumber.
You’ve got a lapse in judgment.
Another name runs across your lips.
And they’ll know where to find you.
If you’re wearing the same thing you had on at the last location that you were spotted.

A penitentiary off-white creeps into view.
Toe tapping, alarm clocks, my eyes glued.
To the back of my head.
I’m in circles again.
Slipping out of the way.
Yeah...Slither out of the way. Slither.

Shed some dead weight.
You only need one mouth to feed.
Pull your skin back.
There’s someone in there.
Take another drink.
Find the alchemist.

And it’s not so bad, when it tastes so good.
Weave a web or two.
And be sure not to catch your reflection.

One hand in. One foot out.
Lace up. Curtains down.

• Metal
• Metalcore
• Progressive Metal
• Progressive Rock
• Rock
• Algonquin