In the back of my head I saw a knife dangling from your face
How can you stay focused how can you see when your world is seen through a happy rose tint I don't think I feel comfortable with your heavy finger on
White laced promises keep suspicion from crawling, their blatant dis-illusion teases my mind. its raining amelessly but its not helping the time slow
When hands meet here skin form to the tube through skin from my mouth. All painted and dressed up for confusion this in all ends meets complicated to
Inside old houses behind closet doors they form single file lines i will not dedicate a day to a life size nativity scene nor will my passer by notice
I demand you all in my attention i say what i want i want a standing ovation at my funeral for miles to be seen from behind the limousines and
Shut your fucking mouth tradition does not seem to be working because of it's mechanical tone it's one that paralyzes my thoughts and defies my suspense
