Swain - Joy

When joy is out of stock
And thirst moves the bile
When a record is a clock
Spinning, spinning, spinning out of time
If a step lacks grit
And the walk feels eternal, infernal, adrift
If a coma is our bliss
I insist it's an ugly trick

Time and time
Joy
Undercurrent friend of mine
In bliss
In death do us part
Taken
Adrift

When colors stir to black
From a billow to a blow
When the years are counted back
Ticking, ticking, ticking to a low
What light gets through the cracks?
Feels like a hack
Feels like it's everyone's twist
If seeing through the myth
Take a knife
Uncut your fist
So if to savor what is left
And to swallow what is whole
And you think
Is that all?
And if to know is almost there
And you gaze beyond thе stare
Onto where?