I think I'm letting go.
It drains itself dry and drains itself some more.
I think I've had enough.
What barrier can I create to protect this psyche?
Head like a haunted house.
We're surreal, sublime.
Can't get it out of myself.
And these noises get louder.
We're surreal, sublime
Tell me where the other half lives?
One lives half dead.
The other went missing.
I loved you to death
and the hate lives on.
Gray ghosts haunt these halls.