Hit the streets with synthesizers buzzing in your ears

Drum breaks as heart beats or some other cliche nonsense

Were the parallels already there or are you making them up?

The answer doesn't matter nearly as much as the decision

Will you keep walking between the lines or will you break from the plane?

Servitude or serpentine?

Let's be honest

We know the ending

You keep writing metaphors in lockstep

Words alone have never killed fate

And you can do yourself in on paper a million times without using enough lead to cover your grave

Paper phoenix

Origami king

Keep writing your myths

Keep walking forward

You almost made something

You almost-

Stop

Just stop

They're not even listening yet