1. PYNCH

A golden oracle read my face
She said my paths were twofold
Do right and know her embrace
Or sleep on a park bench and die alone

Nerve endings pop at human touch
Armpits are wet ditches
Heart rate is double-bass
Pupils are triple-wide
To take in the vision

I held the future up to my eye
I'm a visual learner
But these goddamn cataracts
They make it all so blurry

The car has to flip before I admit
I was wrong to drive with my feet
I need the gun to my cheek before
I concede I was out of my mind

I held the future up to my eye
I'm a visual learner
But these goddamn cataracts
They make it all so blurry

We're gonna die either way I assure you
Stuffed in shiny boxes of pine
50 years and we're food for worms
All matter's just a matter of time