Teeth-through by Thibaut Narme Lyrics
My addiction crawls through my teeth again
Bathing in my saliva
Tanning on my tongue
—Swallow!
Contemplate peace for a moment, and
—Reiterate!
Staring at the screen
An empty plate go-between
You know there could be more perfect instants
All your senses arch-mobilized
Your brain glimpsing into calm void
Keep on wishing, keep on looking for
And lately you don't mirror yourself
Hide the stretch
And there are a million excuses
A million more impulses
And the engulfing emptiness always has the upper hand – the one that feeds, the one with trigger fingers
Fleeting, you increase pace and quantities
Define hiding strategies,
Rationales,
Culprits
There’s a repetition
A distinctive mantra
‘It should be all good!,’ – after the next one
And eventually you run out of sensation, money, things to binge on
In flux, you don't stop by the serving pit, unstock the fridge
There'll be new things to use, come the allowance
And there were promises you sometimes honored to yourself
Of which, you were ultimately free in timely fashion
Crash and burn in the last train wagon
Cross the rivers with your sweets – fully bellied
It’s the hyperkinetics that keeps your homeostasis in bad economics
Or so
I choose to believe
Bathing in my saliva
Tanning on my tongue
—Swallow!
Contemplate peace for a moment, and
—Reiterate!
Staring at the screen
An empty plate go-between
You know there could be more perfect instants
All your senses arch-mobilized
Your brain glimpsing into calm void
Keep on wishing, keep on looking for
And lately you don't mirror yourself
Hide the stretch
And there are a million excuses
A million more impulses
And the engulfing emptiness always has the upper hand – the one that feeds, the one with trigger fingers
Fleeting, you increase pace and quantities
Define hiding strategies,
Rationales,
Culprits
There’s a repetition
A distinctive mantra
‘It should be all good!,’ – after the next one
And eventually you run out of sensation, money, things to binge on
In flux, you don't stop by the serving pit, unstock the fridge
There'll be new things to use, come the allowance
And there were promises you sometimes honored to yourself
Of which, you were ultimately free in timely fashion
Crash and burn in the last train wagon
Cross the rivers with your sweets – fully bellied
It’s the hyperkinetics that keeps your homeostasis in bad economics
Or so
I choose to believe