Tilting Chairs Was Just The Beginning

My fingers dug in, holding onto a thread

The world tilts forward, because of something I said

Throwing orbits into chaos, completely a mess

I’ve got the pope kept on speed dial, so that I can confess

My shoulders are aching, I can’t take much more

The dr thinks that I’m faking, but believe me, they’re sore

Gods about to get even, he plans to settle the score

Just as I let loose, my tingling feet hit the floor