| I see the edge and I’m getting closer
|
| The stitches aren’t holding the seams
|
| I’m hitting bottom but sinking further
|
| White picket death machines
|
| I’m done feeling sorry
|
| Headed south on a broken wing
|
| This shoulder’s getting colder
|
| Broken bottles and broken dreams
|
| Can’t wake up from this nightmare
|
| This guilt is killing me
|
| What’s to become of us?
|
| What’s to become of me?
|
| Light a match and walk away.
|
| There’s nothing left here so why stay?
|
| This place is dead to me
|
| Life lived how could we stop it
|
| Love lost on empty pockets
|
| Pointing fingers in the wrong way
|
| Captivated by the thought of sinking in
|
| Eyes hung from hollow sockets
|
| Bloodshot and out of solace
|
| Keep calm and carry on
|
| Pretend there’s nothing wrong
|
| Let’s keep this clandestine
|
| I know just what we need
|
| Pack up these memories with a full frontal lobotomy
|
| It’s not what you knew it’s what you can prove
|
| I walk these streets with the diseased
|
| The ghosts of who we are; |
| the ones we’ll never be
|
| I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart
|
| These bruises will lose color
|
| They’re not who you are
|
| Can’t wake up from this nightmare
|
| This guilt is killing me
|
| What’s to become of us?
|
| What’s to become of me?
|
| Light a match and walk away
|
| There’s nothing left here so why stay?
|
| This place is dead to me
|
| I walk these streets with the diseased
|
| The ghosts of who we are; |
| the ones we’ll never be
|
| I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart
|
| These bruises will lose color
|
| They’re not who you are
|
| We felt the bottom drop as we stood and watched
|
| View from a window looking straight across
|
| Static silence drowning out the noise
|
| This is the eulogy
|
| We had a little hope 'till it was lost
|
| Life lived, love lost on a boulevard
|
| Yes this is the eulogy of your friends and family
|
| I walk these streets with the diseased
|
| The ghosts of who we are; |
| the ones we’ll never be
|
| I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart
|
| These bruises will lose color
|
| They’re not who you are |