Move your still endless body Channeling neurotic energy can save the day But overwrought, we overwrite reason to keep the truth at bay By pecking at the ground with no apparent cause except for fear of vulnerability Channeling what hasn't even come to pass prompts me to ask: How far up your own ass can you crawl? What will you have wished you'd done? you cannot rise if you don't run and no one's been exempted from stumbling through the first attempts, awkward and tense but lovely nonetheless Oh god i cannot kill or break the static friction In the absent face of space to fill You can tell as much or more from where it stops that it goes In the absent face of space to fill, would you move your still?