When you've been running
To or From,
your soles will ache.
And the strength in your bones
will leach out of your pores
in perfect milky rosebuds
And your poisoned muscles will beg you to breathe
And you will gasp in the surrounding dust
ancient skin and insect bodies
will replenish your lonely lungs
And your veins will swell
with the wine of someone else's youth
And your heart will pump
night into day
day into night
And the illusion of the time will be kept
by your feet pounding the raw earth
In the disgusting one-two-hit
one-two-hit
one-two-hit
And you will run
you will run
you will run
until your dying step.