I want to feel the noose draped around me
Hung dry outside by an electric property
Hands wrapped around my crumbling body
A taste of honey drip fed to me
A cage of circles - trapped artistry
I've been stuck in this part of history
I keep repeating myself in every song
I keep repeating myself in every song
I'm being ripped apart
By these Holy Vultures
Fingers wrapped in ribbon leading
Anachronistic subjects flirting
With being young and flailing wildly
With ideas of fame posthumously
Definition of vaguely aiming
Towards something that is worth holding
I keep repeating myself in every song
I keep repeating myself in every song
My brain is being picked by
The Holy Vultures
They're circling in the sky
Lighting my head on fire
I'm out of direction i swear
I won't let them take me
Those holy vultures
Those holy vultures