
Pitiful words have made me so utterly manic
Should I lay there or should I f*cking panic?
Closed eyes sunken through the half lies,
You swallow destiny and the pale highs
With your poor disguise.
You’re fake as well but it’s not a concern
It’s rather a turn,
A twist to your ego so friggin centric,
Don’t ever try to call ME selfish.
…
Please burn me at midnight, in a meadow of the deep blue forest
with the rest of my witch coven, the ones that ain’t modest.
If you don’t mind, my scent will stay there to hover
Between the dark trees like a long lost lover.
We don’t take cover. We won’t sink lower.
The smoke will show a way to our blackest abyss,
Not all who wander are lost, yet ignorance is bliss
And the straightest way to hell is paved with the best intent.
…
Honey, just hold me tight while the flames take away my pretend.