Gloom

Break the fingers of the hands that dealt
Pull off the nails, make sure it felt the grief and the pain of being stuck
here in misery lane
Call us stubborn, call us closer to death
Yet don’t we all retch at our nicotine breath?
The violence in our heads never seemed to discharge the questioning,
the questioning
With both feet on the ground, we keep the gods where they can be found
With both feet on the ground, we keep the gods where they can be found: nowhere