Light departed in all ways, dust and gasses expanding
Till all the little fishes found their places along my side.
I can say I’ve felt those waves radiate from aching knees
That pulsed in time with what’s behind my eyes
So can you tell me what’s wrong with writing songs for the undead?
And can you tell me what the problem is?
We never leave our bedrooms anymore
Cause I’ll be hanging with the ghosts in the hall again
While you’re swinging from the branches inside my head
Cause I’m bringing back the good from the depths of where we’ve been
Don’t try to tell me it never fucks with you as it does me
The fiery fall of the curling leaves, and the worlds we’re stuck between
Well I asked for peace and quiet in this season god forgot,
As the latter looms, it’s the first that I really want.
With all the patterns I’ve seen swiftly transpire,
So sick of fraternizing with these vampires,
Swing low, we’ll fill them up, my rotting blood and guts.
As my senses adjust to some redheaded cuss
In the absence of warmth or shame
I’ll refrain.
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