That whisper, your lovely
Curling razor, mistakenly wound
Around my tongue to squeeze
Some f*cking truth from
That wicked obsession, your obsession,
Where i can pass by.
They do that when you're dead.
Alive i could count stars,
And you counted screams, so
If you would please just hand
Me my ticket, i wll go and
Join the ground. it was where i
Was in the first place