All it remains is the aftertaste, crashed party
Hollow walking corpses edging on a hard reset
'Cos your eyes slaughtered me as I tore contact
I broke down into another self, a lesser version
Incomplete, sleepwalking and deeply dissatisfied.
This itch scratches my very essence
The nail tear bone and flesh,
The ballad of heat and motion
Carve fever into my madness
The lesser evil remains to pay
in blood cull my backwards fall
What was the point?
Put a sock on the stinger
Rubbed me off all sorts wrong
Doubled down on petrifying spells
Conduits of hate and shortage of breath
Capture that emotion and archive it
Label it down as 'weak bones syndrome'
And burn it immediately, may the voodoo cure
What time couldn't.
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