no sleep we are restless pestilence broken promises collect like bounced checks never penitent i call it home where i lay my broken bones sticks and stones a row of disconnected pay phones we are contraband smuggled through the tunnels under wonderland youve been sleeping on the job so heres your reprimand we are breeding multiplying in the space between the walls what you call living feels more like dying if it feels like anything at all wearing our hearts on our sleeves seems youve forgotten what your head is for my blood is on your hands and no thats not a fucking metaphor we are afraid of conflict but always at war and we no longer feel pain thats what the medicines for