So call me out, play & roll the dice to make it even.
So call me out, stick a gun into my mouth when all is well that ends well.
I'm not well, I am lost in your olivion.
In suffering, I can't fathom them.
When complexity is disguised as a simpleton.
This is Turbulence.
In reverence, I can't swallow them.
It's hard enough stay above the surface.
So justify what is sound, and take me underground.
It's far better to wait for a miracle to change it all.