Found my tip split yesterday
Dull edged and wrecked
The havoc got me vexed so I slit my arrow
Ripped what I'd sowed and slaughtered my farrow

The jar was half empty today
The taps leaked condensed milk yesterday

But my withered lips were itching
And my mind started switching

And my hands were shaking
The glass shattered on my palms waking

Up my nerves, drenched with thirst this morning
But the stool didn't pass me by until today
Hit the floor again tonight 4.00 a.m.
It's tomorrow, times prey

The cracks in the floor don't choose sides
Whatever, whoever, lose, dies
It's the year of dead water, son, year of dead water