Из альбома: Dude, You Need To Stop Dancing
The first night after your released,
No one expects you to get much sleep
Your the waking walking dead
In my case, I'm not much better
Walk through the kitchen and grab a marker
Trace the path the blood will flow
The lines I wear around my wrists are there to prove that I exist
Tomorrow it will be easier to forgive myself, and remember her
Without a guilty head, these nightmare lines, an empty heart
We take for granted all the things that make us who we are
Get up Get dressed Go to work They all know who you are
They can't believe you'd show up here, but that's just who they are
Set up shop at your machine, calibrate, remember who you are
Here lies clarity in a perfect grave comprised of perfect steel
The perfect blade glows a perfect white against the perfect lines from this perfect night
I'm the perfect picture of complacency, and that's all I feel
Slow motion replaces real time,
As the horror fills their eyes
These claws will never kill again
[These lines I wear around my wrists
Are there to prove that I exist
these lines I wear around my wrists]
I am a monster clothed in crimson sleeves
And perforated lines where my wrists should be
A warehouse full of workers scramble like a pack of
Bewildered wolves as my world turns black,
And I fall [x5]