This is a song about being sick
It's fantastic, the way your eyes burned holes in me and scorched the landscape, like some monster in a Japanese disaster.
Three car pile-ups in your wake, destroying traffic, and when the smoke had cleared, the candlewax had hardened. Then I knew what people felt who first saw fire, A mix of wonderment and fear.
When the crazy gets contagious, we're elastic
Stretched too tight, and when it snaps, mood swings drastic, and we sit and rock in corners like bucking spastics.
When the crazy gets contagious
It's fantastic. The way the spirit thing that follows you, I saw it,
and I smoked a cigarette while it just hovered
and I asked it the secrets as it shimmered.
I rubbed my eyes hard. It didn't go away.
It's fantastic. Second guessing every word that's heard in darkness.
And it really doesn't matter because we've caught it,
and we pass it back and forth like some infection.
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