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| Thrice The Artist In The Ambulence Silhouette Your eyes, follow me here. Your eyes seemless and sure. They leave broken and, in need of a cure. Your eyes, follow me here. Your eyes, sift in my soul. They leave me broken and, forge diamonds from the coal. They race me along, the infinite synopse of white lines. And then, chasing the dawn, storybook syntax. Your eyes, slit the throat of all I know about myself in this life, silhouette lie! And your eyes, speaking in tounges. Vigilant still filling my lunges. Testing my will, they leave me broken and bruised and bleeding. Your eyes, resting in flames, leave me, breathless again. Like hydrogen, spilt on fault lines. Or ten years living with, exposure to radon. Your eyes.... Slit the throat of all I know about myself in this life, silhouette lie! Your eyes! Your eyes! Speaking in tounges. Vigilant still I'm done with(?) Your eyes! (They leave me broken and) Your eyes! (bruised and bleeding)Filling my lunges! Testing my will again, slit the throat of all I know about myself in this life, silhouette lie! Slit my throat, cuz I know that this life is a lie! So, slit my throat! |
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