I'm slow. So slow. No beat. No sound. A brand, ground into a rotten truck. Slow through the reeds, each brushWaving through bloody tips,No skin, so slow, every step pain,A blotchy stain, gained from the Popper. To the truck, open the door, Slow to search, and flash the engine,To go slow, still slow. No roundTrip …
Just Buckle Down 