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Where the air hangs like the static of a dead end radio |
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I'm waiting with a frozen pulse |
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Crawl into an empty womb, don't raise these dead |
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They've found their |
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God in soil |
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Dry scab silhouette's tell the secrets of sewn mouths |
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My heart is a sore but even charred faces crack smiles |
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Mismanufactured, screaming like some faulty machinery |
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The overwhelming inefficiency of infants |
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Artificer stead me now, you've sewn a machine |
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You've birthed an abortion, the corpse of |
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God is love |
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I'm rotting and |
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I'm not yet dead, |
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I'm the king of worms and |
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I'll have your head |
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Resurrected roadkill, blueprinted skin, |
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I swear, I've never been here before |
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Everyone but me looks like they've seen a ghost |
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All eyes fall on collapsing statues, stop pointing, stop laughing |
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There's nothing to see here, everybody try to relax |
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Everybody please remain calm(I'm not supposed to be here anyway) |
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Divinity doesn't show what the stables hold |
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The scalpel proves my faith when he spits through his words |
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We traitors share our strings, we're suffocating under makeshift skin |
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Pull out the thread, sew on a heart, make peace with dirt |
