from where the angels lie, dreaming bloodshot in the sky
Somethings just need to stop once in a while
like how you run your signals through blenders
just before you send them my way.
You need to keep your low pitched morbidity
and steady breathing out of my ears
so they'll stay out of my head when things get quiet.
If you're going to tear this world to pieces,
stop rebuilding sections of the walls.
fade.out.of.this.world.
- This basement dungeon is wreaking havoc on my organs.
