Ailments from Ailments by Wolves & Machines

Sans all the aches, sans all the allergies I think I've found what's ailing. Sans my routine insomnia I think I've found what's shaking me. If everyone I love would stop leaving me I wouldn't feel the greed in begging them to stay. It's like every move they make is just reminding me that there are many better men than me. Though the infection has spread, it's not disease that I regret. It's the ring. I feel it wasting away. I'm the sea's captive captain and the Stockholm's won't set in. Get me home. All I see is an empty place, an empty frame. In the depths of where I am with the cold and lack of oxygen these memories still kill me in a way drowning never could. Asleep I feel my skin begin the process of unraveling. I pray it's just the ailments, I pray I can shake myself and wake. I held out for a friend, not the phantom I found telling lies and keeping secrets from me. This season got bitter before it got better. It's the distance that keeps ailing me. It was the youth that we found; we were bound to it. It changed the words that I wanted to sing. Before we got restless and hung up on these vows, we lived our lives civil and sane. The youth that we found; we clung to it. It changed the way that I wanted to speak. But the love that's not leaving has already left. Sans my doubt, it's your joy ailing me.

• Rock
• Saginaw