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Gray curtains, gray sky, so strange for july
the chains of hopelessness cling to me still
despite it all, burdened by my blessings of guilt
forced to remorse over what i cannot control

i want a drug without a name
i want a girl without a face
but its not what it seems, expression is so clean
the foreboding past still clings to me
i know morals and remorse
i understand more than words can explain
with all hate and violence
im enduring this marathon of despondence


up and down your spine, like a skeleton’s caress
you will feel the ivory touch of death
this paradigm, in all my deviance
acres of steel, disease, emptiness


all scorn and violence
in silent darkness
one fleeting breath of joy
it fills my lungs with hate
with ultimate conceit

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