| Crawl and climb through bones; |
| a vulture’s feast
|
| Claw-marked backs, it’s so hard to breathe
|
| Can I leave before I turn?
|
| Scavenging for hate will make you strong
|
| Be my affliction
|
| Act a little bit crazed, and speak in tongues
|
| A pathetic vision, just a patchwork tapestry of sways and slumps
|
| Hiding among us
|
| Can you feel their pain?
|
| It licks up your spine, and into your mind; |
| the lust of preying on the weak
|
| Vultures; |
| craving the abuse of hatred
|
| I can feel their eyes burn a hole in the back of my skull
|
| Fine; |
| I’ve made some mistakes, but I’ll reconcile with my shadows and my place
|
| in life inside the hive, even though I know it’s burning me
|
| Can we peacefully be allowed to leave before the last door slams shut?
|
| Before the pain of blame and the vultures come for the last of us?
|
| Be my affliction
|
| Act a little bit crazed, and speak in tongues
|
| A pathetic vision, just a patchwork tapestry of sways and slumps
|
| Be the weight in me (keep my feet on the ground)
|
| Teach me; |
| make me see (and pull my head from the clouds)
|
| Be the weight in me (keep my feet on the ground)
|
| Teach me; |
| make me see (and pull my head from the clouds) |