Echo Locate - Swearin'

Sonogram eyes blind and rested

Fake it through loud crowds and questions

Intellect, an aware unstrument

Concious states and balanced distance

Call echo, foot on the gas

Reading trash rags

No home’s ever dragging me back

Half shadowed, hands in the lap

Ignorant past, it won’t ever let me relax

I lie in healthy aching

The grasp is old and failing

It’s conventional wisdom, to finally just stop listening

Call the ending, think out loud

Drawn to you somehow

I won’t try and figure out

Makes now difference now