Tonalità: Bb minor
Verse 1
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Watching from the bottom of a strangers mind - vicarious life
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chemical divide. The epidemic of our time: A voluntary genocide.
Verse 2
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Am
Dm
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Am
He's wielding a needle, it's laced with ambition... set on finding forever or blacking out the friction. She's clutching a bottle - conscripted prescription - deaf to my dissent,
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Am
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void of all volition. Injecting fire straight into the veins, nothing will cauterize the wound where I remain. Ingesting tiny stars one by one... one by one... I come undone.
Verse 3
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Dm
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Passenger to my own life: Trapped inside, fastened to the vice. Fading out Fading away... burning in a bliss you can't sustain. Am I a
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hedonist or solipsist? Barbiturate tourniquets drip...drip: A sycophant's sea of delusion. Drowning in an empty conclusion.
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Verse 4
Come shoot me up into
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the night.
Verse 5
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Dm
Blood Moon: The shadow in my skin. The window of my soul was sealed,
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Dm
Eaug
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but I'll still let you in. Blood Moon: Shiver through my mind. Only the need is real, feel whatever I can to make sure I can't feel.
Verse 6
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All the hell in my veins can't dissipate the pain. All the
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hell in my veins won't wash away your face.
Verse 7
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Dm
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Eaug
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So let us go then, you and I - watch the sky drift into sleep, etherized. Collapsing stars (condemned to their cosmic graves) bleeding light for the gain of some far off race. The fog hangs like thieves - there must be guilt in these streets - place your hand on my wrist,
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it's not like we'll be missed. Do I dare, at dusk, shake the need from our skin? Do I dare rattle the rust, corroding me within? The lechery, the treachery, oh come, Love, sit next to me. This anatomy is built like tragedy. Don't you know me by these scars? These marks where I are?
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I mean I am... I mean I was - I was supposed
Interlude 1
to be someone.
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Dm
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Verse 8
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Dm
Blood Moon: The shadow in my skin. The window of my soul was sealed,
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Dm
Eaug
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but I'll still let you in . Blood Moon: Shiver through my mind. Only the need is real, feel whatever I can to make sure I can't feel.
Verse 9
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Dm
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is a prayer, every high a sacrifice. We worship desire at the
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altar of dependence. I hit the bottom then it hit me back.
Interlude 2
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Incarnation
Verse 10
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of society: The
face of evil is the face of need.
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