There is a scent of sweetness
In the air that you cannot trust
It is a scar on your body
Your body is made up of dust
It is a crack in your window
It is a chip in your armour
You'd reap the seeds that you've sown
But you are not a farmer
Scarecrow
Scarecrow
Scarecrow
Paint a picture with teardrops
She's made of charcoal skin
She has left a smear on your shoulder
She is stark white and thin
Now through a crack in your window
The image still moves
Through your body it shudders
And the weight is removed
Too slow
Too slow
The salt in your stomach
That bitterest of tastes
Through a crack in your window
You can still see her face
Let go
Let go
Oh, let go
Let go