This punctured pallet paints me red, Disturbed and angered, dead instead. Just lift your lips and leave me lost, A pale cold corpse collecting moss. These echoes count your
So I spilled out my guts to look past my regrets, and I sang to the heavens as I bled from my neck. I said, "Thanks for your patience, God, and all your
Turn your back on your past, make your mark with a crime that lasts. "Guns don't kill," bullets do, and I've been saving one for you. Hold me down,
Avalanche, a tidal wave of frozen fear Allergic to your atmosphere, Careening down to blanket all. Serenade, our town is only a mass grave. Not even
