In a pretty sane reaction to a stone-cold month of mondays,
In a parking lot adjacent to the off-ramp for the freeway,
The moon was dancing in the clouds,
The wind was playing on the trees.
With a tube stuck through the window
It's as easy as 1, 2, 3.

With a tube stuck through the window,
He stuck by his decision to asphyxiate his fears.
On the coldest day of the year.

The mind keeps drifting backwards toward the formative years
(With nausia, not nostalgia). Bells are ringing in the years.
The temptation to homogenize,
the compulsion to submerge
Beneath a quantity of beer.

Depression and detention and a rock to let off tension.
Carbon monoxide. Carbon monoxide.
Pulse like a receding tide.
Can't you feel it slip away?
The earth which fed you now consumes you.

"No one remembers what day it was
But everyone knows the trouble he'd seen...
Surface details all checked out,
But there was no way to know for sure or not...
Split second decision...
Could've made it go the other way..."