Down at the station we question our rations but you seem satisfied with the little recieved fractured appetite with bismuth pink on tap ascetic limbs gone tight and your lips are clamped and grey crash your appetite erasing every mark you make standing in the corner while you're working up your mantra 'derail the train the train the train derail the train' take the time to hesitate while what's glistening on your plate goes dry and cold and not in your mouth alright you see your programmatic mind surrenders appetite and you crash yourself all over the place snake ingest 40 times their body weight but you you emaciate you crash your shit all over the place now open your mouth!