I cut my ties at the end of a catatonic. When I woke up shaking like a blaze. At first my heart it beat like a helicopter. But soon it blurred like the lights on the freeway. It bloomed with an opened wound. Now walk the earth. All it takes is a golden angle. Or a golden head of an arrowed light. Cause an arrow points to a lie that they spoke. And a new angle in great in a fight