1. |
Spirit Sleeper
07:05
|
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|
The furrows are fading
My skin; recovering
Weak eyes close, and fingers loosen their grip
Nails no longer buried,
no longer reaching to burst my frail skin
as I drift off into a weary sleep
Dreaming of memories I've lost in my drunken haze
Ice is crawling up the windows as I wake
With trembling hands I stumble through the pall
and pick up the embers of your cradle
Still warm, it crumblesβ¦
and in the pain I medicate myself
like I used to dedicate myselfβ¦ to whatever elseβ¦
Now the fireβs out,
I can vaguely see the thoughts in the back of my mind
The hopes and the dread...
With nails buried againβ¦ I lacerate myselfβ¦
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2. |
Soot
06:51
|
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Soot...
It runs through my veins
and my lungs are tainted, piling up with dust...
Soot, darkens my scleraβ¦
Burn - heart of withered hope
Burn - debris of my past life
Engraved with the guilt of neglect
I burn my tarnished insides but remain so coldβ¦
Burnβ¦ pleaseβ¦ burnβ¦
Sedated in the grime, with soot crawling along my limbs
I fix my blank stare, on the tainted photographs
Soot⦠it slows down the memories
β¦and hung on the walls are the smiles of my three little hearts
The once playful sunshine drools in moonshine
as spirits drown the shame of my fixation
β¦and scraped on the table are piles of false sedation
Hidden in the cold, behind the blinds, I'm enslaving myselfβ¦
Slowing down my memoriesβ¦ before they drown in the tarβ¦
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3. |
Behind Blinds
04:58
|
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|
The glass is cracked
and I cover the doorway with a mattress to block out the cold
But it slithers its way into my room and into my veins
like I never knew it could
Starved and gaunt, I find comfort in their clothesβ¦
but they've lost their smell and in my own filth and desperation
I drink insteadβ¦
In shame and guilt I wither away,
but hidden in the fog I can lose track of myselfβ¦
hidden from those I left behindβ¦
A smell of damp as the cold settles in
but I pretend that I can cope with candles and alcohol
β¦and before I leave Iβll burn it all
For at least itβs a way to get rid of the filth
and debris of a functional life
A way to cope in strife
Drenched in tears Iβll wake, having lost it all
The tiny spark stolen by the concrete, or drowned
I'll hide away⦠will the fog bury me?
Iβll shiver and drinkβ¦
Maybe Iβll sink, until I canβt be reached...
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4. |
Sarcofog
04:34
|
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|
There's a cureβ¦
but itβs so much easier to dwellβ¦
and so I drown any spark the moment it glistens
I empty the bottles
and if I wake it will be in a white bed,
clothed in a fucking white sheet,
and it will all begin again...
|
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