| All aboard, this ship bound for wreckage
|
| Sail ho, fuckers!
|
| Who could foresee that this state of mind was forever?
|
| That we would never wake up from our nightmares?
|
| That the black poison dripped onto our skin would burn us
|
| That the clean streams of time wouldn’t be able to wash it away…
|
| Once these robes were worn as masquerade costumes
|
| The smooth velvet reviled hooks and razor claws
|
| That would not come of, cutting into the skin
|
| The harder we pulled the deeper its barbs dug in…
|
| Until death do us part my fair ones
|
| We’re the kings and queens of the depraved undone
|
| In the filthy streets, our splendid court, this neon Babylon
|
| We are the stars that refuse to shine
|
| No ships will navigate by our signs
|
| We are the tones that distort the chord
|
| In a world of perfection we are the flawed
|
| We are the birds with broken wings
|
| The useless ones, we don’t believe in anything
|
| We believe in no gods left high above
|
| And there will be no angels where we go
|
| We are the Ashen Nectar,
|
| we are the tainted well
|
| We are the Ashen Nectar,
|
| side by side we watch the world go by
|
| We are the Ashen Nectar,
|
| the last poets of a dying breed
|
| We are Ashen Nectar,
|
| our skins our canvases, our paint the blood we bleed
|
| All words were first spoken then stolen
|
| Onto paper splattered
|
| By the weakened hand in the dark room
|
| Visions and a life lay scattered
|
| We are suns bent for darkness
|
| The stars that refuse to shine
|
| Artists of a different kind
|
| The ones that leave nothing behind
|
| There is no clean white bed, for this dying bride
|
| Farewell…
|
| We left our last pieces to be lost
|
| In forgotten dusty attics
|
| Where our blood has dried
|
| We were the ashen nectar fanatics
|
| There will nothing left when we leave
|
| Our shadowy art will remain unseen
|
| As we step through the haze
|
| Silhouettes exiting this dream
|
| We are the stars that refuse to shine
|
| No ships will navigate by our signs
|
| We are the tones that distort the chord
|
| In a world of perfection we are the flawed
|
| We are the birds with broken wings
|
| The useless ones, we don’t believe in anything
|
| We believe in no gods left high above
|
| And there will be no angels where we go
|
| We are the Ashen Nectar
|
| We are the tainted well
|
| We are the Ashen Nectar
|
| Side by side, we watch the world go by
|
| We are the Ashen Nectar
|
| The last poets of a dying breed
|
| We are Ashen Nectar
|
| Our skins our canvases, our paint the blood we bleed |