Downhill Racers - Cursive

Hold your breath, dear

This ship is going down

We’re all downhill

Running with our timebombs

These shins are cracked and splintered

These lips are crusted shut

These squinting eyes just sting me

These veins are drying me up

All my limbs

They’re just tools

We’re all stilted vehicles

These joints rust

These pores leak

Time gets selfish

Time is SPEED

The sweetest dreams… have murdered me.

They murdered me.

They murdered me

Like the fear of unskilled labor in the nuclear family

It’s the nightmare of digression that engulfs a history

All my limbs

They’re just tools

Duplicated, mass produced

Running down

Losing speed

Time escapes us

Timing’s everything

Everything

Everything… This is the tick in the heart

Everything… This is the beating of the clock

Everything… This is an absent blood clot

Everything… These are the seconds that I’ve lost

Everything… This is the slow-rush hour

Everything’s so rushed (This is the slow-rush… hour)

Everything… This is the slow rush