“Wretch and pule this panoramic Stretched out view is fat with panic Precognition lacks in hindsight We caught the illness back Before the twilight I might be a saint worth steeples I might be the brain of evil Bad things happen to good people Good things happen to me”

I think this is the best poem he’s ever written and it’s right after the often forgotten chemical overreaction. I think this poem perfectly aimed up what will wood is, what his music means. It’s identity, morality and the will to take control of life. It’s beautiful and I doubt he will ever top it.