<div>Move into the grave that bares your name.<br />My high is creeping, but is it set in stone? <br />We’re both wasted, but we’re not going anywhere like this.<br />(so we’ll see right through) for me to walk face first into sliding glass for your pleasure.<br />All in the taste of salt on your neck.<br />(now I) choke on the urge of taking it back (till I’m) spilling the blood that rests on my tounge.<br />(dreaming) of holding your head, detached from the rest. this fuse left burning, but now we’re far too close.<br />To let the past stitch our wounds and seal our tears.<br />Lest sick from the guild you spread.<br />Lust sick in this momen. we won’t believe in anything<br />
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