Autopilot

I pretend

That this world I’ve made

Hasn’t been a slave

To something I’ve been killing.

And I never got tired

of the baby breath desire

To make it out saved

Without all the kneeling.

 

Held up with sliding scales,

Drink off headaches.

I sense a shakedown

Should follow nicely.

A quick scolding’s back to business

So don’t worry about me,

I am the system

And I’m still here.

 

Excuses won’t go missing,

No milk carton waving for the faceless.

So now, they’re tailing me

As I work the scales.

I pretend I’m shocked

Though I’m really not

And in confusion

I started pouring shots.

My morning face 

Laid to a late night waste

Beyond sleep’s all exposing mirror.

My habits seem compounded

And I used to claim clear

I just never thought my habits

Could learn the way to steer