Anti-gravity explanation by Scentless

No more accidental believes
In what’s to come, in what’s near,
Complaining about everything,
Invisible wounds upon the skin
Threatening isolation
Moving towards projectile incubus
And now I am a warrior
And now I am a prisoner!

From the top of what we see,
There’s so much in between,
From eczema volcanoes to condescend confessions,
I hope we seize to be delayed…
From the tundra in my dreams
We cast our hearts to breathe
And find ourselves so reluctant to take them back with us,
We all philosophy in pain…

Looking in a shelf,
Find that mirror that takes me away…
Pass those silhouettes,
Lost in a past so astray…
Came from all this love…

No remorse from childhood,
Chose to become a man
In few years the weakened flesh
Chose to devour itself instead,
Remarkable observations
Made in deathbeds, candle vigils,
They never mean anything but we sell them
Because life is told by an idiot!

Let the innocent rest in peace
Never chose what to believe,
Symptomatic disorder of bulletproof anger,
They always drown themselves in rain…
Residual photograph from the ink of memories,
Despite those addresses are colored in paper…

We all asphyxiate from the smell
Of bleach mixed with residual semen,
There’s more in this cadaver than he prefers to tell…
Consumed in agreement from all parts in whispers,
We crossed from the generation of heathens
And called ourselves what we should say in them…