Bread

Give me a piece of bread
Daily routine starts up
It’s seven o’clock
Try to find my shoes, so I can go
Daily routine starts up
It’s seven o’clock

Can’t you cut my strings now
Or does it make you scared?

I put a pen in my mouth
Black cat screams outside
Who’s fooling who?
Can’t think of nothing but my shoes
Black cat screams outside
Who’s fooling who?

Can’t you cut my strings now
Or does it make you scared?

This feels like a turning point
Split things up that still are joined

Do you call this wisdom?
Or are you in a rut?
Do you call this wisdom?
Or are you in a void?