You come around, come around letâs fall. You come around I can swear Iâve seen it all. And you could burn all the bodies in hell and never once make it up to me.
I could live inside a tepee. I could die in Penthouse thirty-five. You could lose me on the freeway. But I would still make it back alive. . As long as we can sail away.
Gone. Gone. Shoot me straight for the sun. I wanna be the only one left. Misdiagnosed condition. Burnt beyond recognition. Sink her straight through the floor.
Shorn of apocryphal pride, the locks falls predicting strife. Cranium. Exposed, denial of aesthetic. Push it a little farther. All of this burnt to. Ashes, all of this torn to rags. I don't know what the fuck have I become?.
You want to hate me for the way you hate yourself. You think you can find who you are in someone else. Criticize who already found their positioning. You've got a long way to go.
A thousand heads cut clean across their necks. Right down the hall from me. The Reich's relentless blade. Thirsty and shining red. Still echoes of their screams.
Smothered under your affection. Solitude an acquisition. Symbiosis turned parasitic. Now I'm starting to regret this. . Dying to be alone. Bleed me as I'm dying to be alone.