Lyrics Play Dead - Helms Alee

Play Dead

Have a taste
Don’t want
Don’t waste
Its flavor for all
Guts stuffed full of plastic morsels
Full
Looks right
Feels right
Tastes right
Worn well
Taxidermy by dystopian minds
It’s for show
And it glow
But all too strained
Scream strange
Make sense
Make it, sense
Derange
Trash turns death into art, immortal
Bionic bile
Force the light to bend and pretend it’s raining
Light on your descent into red
Faced, fading
Fist, the hand to lend
In defense, sky waving
Inch back from the mend with intent to die waiting
True friends don’t let friends play dead
True friends don’t let friends play dead
True friends don’t let friends play dead long