Drowning in the lake
I find the owner of the voice
I zip in the bag
And drove all across the noise
Examine the hairline
His archives in the strands
You're telling me something
That puts the weakness in my hands

I see what I suppose
I breathe what I dispose
Black wheels
Get yellow in the sand
I steal every idea that I can

Instead of a person
A shadow's in the lake
Instead of coercion
She blows his hand-grenade

And I have an aversion
To dying in a car
I reach corrosion
A suitcase in the dark