Testo 77

Over your shoulder, you can see
Nobody looking at me
Black eye

Softer than all things in their lives
Up to the ceiling, so white
Black ice, black ice, black ice
Try to go do me right
Steady backward movement now
Saving not, but clean me out
Living back here, I recall
Chewing Perry's Tylenol
Days becoming more discreet
I never thought I’d be here