Threadbare from Minutes by Jogging

Crop the photo's edges until it's just profile of a solar plexus.
No background cast or smiles.
No members, no cast, no members to remember

Wearing out your welcome, this welcome mat's threadbare.
Danced off every molecule, this ligament will tear.

And the world is walking out the door,
And I raise my eyes in relief,
And I raise my eyes to my glass,
And I raise my glass to my teeth
And erase the past two weeks

Wash this filthy witness and in this filth you'll drown.
Withholding information but I'll hold it in my mouth.
This skin, these limbs, extraneous skin

A pigeon off its stool, more likely on a deckchair.
As sterile as a mule. On the outskirts of a crosshair

It's visible, not transparent.
There, it's threadbare.
Laissez-faire.
And I've worn out my welcome here
With conviction, not carnival.
I'm snowblind in the sun but get sunburnt in the snow

I can see through you, we will see this through.
This invisibility, it constantly eludes me because there's nothing to see.
Give me some transparency please

• DIY
• INDIE
• Ireland
• PUNK
• Post-hardcore
• Rock