this feels nice, the blood drips
i can feel my life leaving this skin
rather than thin, the blade cut deep
i float free, soul still needs
i arrive as they contrive
but there’s no help in hell
skin in the air, the feeling of dry, spikes and night
there’s no tears here — all your fears, they’re in the air
they laugh, taunt and appear as you try to steer clear
but the spears through your heart and the afterlife becomes à la carte
fixed upon days, the empty street
now the fire burns me
underneath a shaded tree, but there’s no light here
my dear, how i’ve become a puppeteer
playing with thoughts that aren’t so clear
long gone from we’re
drinking a bottle of everclear somewhere under the stars
rolling with wars in my mind
i see you everywhere, but you’re one of a kind
i swear i’m not blind — i swear, i swear
twinkle of the night
the wind sweeps, tonight i’m free
the blood drips with the everclear