Time signature heretic

You couldn’t see, That it wasn’t me That was walking out of time, But the carnival drums, That didn’t conform. I couldn’t tell then, If that look was confusion, Or the whether you just Ascribed this madness To a lack …

əˈflɪkʃ(ə)n

Stories get smothered by pain. No matter which tale, You are ready to tell, There’s a hurt that can dissolve it. A strike of agony waiting to chime, An ache under unwritten cursive. Songs choked on a migraine stone, And …