When lowering, your weight is forward
Don’t have to tell me twice
Every lean over leads to topple
Every topple leads to face first
And my nose needs a break, I tell you
Downward Spiral, could be
Nah
It’s a Pretty Hate Machine day
My ears rattle
My feet tap
My heart beats
My arms reach out
And I slap the floorboards with
All my weight forward, all of it
I wonder if he pictured it like this?
No singing bowls
No Lulu Lemon
No long and rounded erms
Just a
I wanna fuck you like an animal
I suppose feel you from the inside
Is a bit similar to bringing it inside
Styll
I tower over my splatter zone
It’s a slow motion descent
I’m incrementally acclimatising
To my new resting place
Of
Disaster
And when he tells me to hover
I lose all hope in my ability to
Hold myself with any strength at all
Then the doomed words blast:
Exhale
For
The
Push
Back
Up
I collide belly to rubber
Tits to chin
And think fuck it
Child’s pose is always there for me
And Trent Reznor never claimed to be
A yoga teacher
Anyway
By Lyric Deep.
Lyric Deep™ 