What does it mean ?that's what I'd like to know.
The strings that hold the physical could they be the thoughts piercing at the open sore that is my active imagination?
The day is cool and bitter like being soaked in gasoline, the sun takes turns peeking through clouds, only to shine its light on the cities of men, its power lines constrict the people's weak and worried minds. Outside the limits beyond the cattle guard one can see the night and loaded skies,
I dare not worry for the fallen mind, iv got my own to wich I cope...