‘Claiming Don Quixote’s Spot For My Own’

Left over lies used to strike down our love roam vagrant in hordes, riding our mutations; unabated bruised egos

(kickers and runners in a constant defensive position)

7,000 and some you and me(s) lost from being saved; springing from a trap you never really set in walls you never really built

(How a coward can be when everything's not perfect: over act bravery into a hysteria)

When sought, unwilling enemies become victims so I'm substituting things away from you as a den of thieves for safety's sake

(Wanna be hero's wild call to arms against hallucination after hallucination)

Pain's more precious than pleasure when protecting your and there I am seeing monsters of me in you again so it's time to ride out.....it's fine as long as I'm not battling you heart to heart