|
Up for three days |
|
Up for three days |
|
Down under ground for six more |
|
Incisions cannot penetrate my feet |
|
Tripping, gliding, falling numbly |
|
Hands held together with unwanted skin |
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Ripping, hiding calling dumbly |
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You, in houses of mud |
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You, in gutter sleep-love |
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You, born to slaughter-swathed gloves |
|
You, dressing daughters and sons |
|
Like you - I am broken and fragile |
|
Like you - I am tasting my heart for the first time |
|
Like you - I am feeding on slumber |
|
Like you - I've left my eyes far behind me |
|
Down for the count I'm still drowning |
|
I'm still drowning |
|
The eighth day |
|
Sleep, the eighth day |
|
Clawed my way back to the first |
|
No gentle fingers collapse on my eyes |
|
Weeping, prying, struggling blindly |
|
There's no sanity standing me back on my feet |
|
I'm in an empty room |
|
I'm burning books from you |
|
I'm lost in bed with you |
|
Breaking these mirrors to end all I've seen |
|
Like you - I am broken and fragile |
|
Like you - I am tasting my heart for the first time |
|
Like you - I am feeding on slumber |
|
Like you - I've left my eyes far behind me |
|
Down for the count I'm still drowning |
|
I'm still drowning |
|
I'm still drowning |
