I need the world...

need the world, suspended in time; I need the world.

Moving freely against the stand-still potrait of the sun's luminescent backdrop.

I'm reaching for some kind of handle to pull me from this disheveled boggy space.

I've sunk as far as I'm willing to let myself fall.

My sword is all I need.

Getting through the crowded rooms, my machette is all I need.

I need the world, like I need the caress of a dozen double edged razors.

I need the world like I need air.

At least you don't have to be sober to breathe.

I need the world because its all I have;

"it's" all I want.