it turns my stomach every night   like scattering bats in disrupted flight   the idea of ideas and tired points to pierce the skin   little children lining up and losing all of their time, losing all their time      I don't have the time for my own lifetime   when you blink my stay here is over   batting those long eyelashes, baby save yourself the trouble   and seperate from this strangling cable   I have won victory over death, won like an automatic weapon   fingers itching, itching for my trigger      I am a firearm, a machinegun      walk this tired planet, make sandcastles in the tide   I am not my own so I will not call this place my home   I do not belong to me, and I do not have a care to see   my hands reaching out for wind, like you're reaching out for wind      counting the days, counting the scars   counting the miles to get this far   and looking back at nothing, looking back at nothing   and I turn to look up at your flags laughing   thinking of how sad it is to see you capture butterflies in mason jars      I rip my ribcage open and proclaim, I belong to Christ