There's a place that I wanna go,
Somewhere that I've never gone,
Someplace that I wanna stay,
And leave this troubled place.

Here come the red lights,
Red hair and suit coat,
Laden in sinners blood,
What else would he be but bold.

Escape the body I feel,
Maybe I'll be on my knees,
Never ever breaking free,
Of the confines I write.

Here come the red lights,
Red hair and suit coat,
Laden with sinners blood,
Who else would I know.

There's a place I wanna be,
To exist and never leave,
Till my body dies and stuck there,
While I'm off in space without a fare.

The Exxon curb is my home,
For the next five minutes it is my own,
It's few feet of curb that I won,
By sitting and drinking my green tea.

This is my chrome golden lair,
Under heaven's blessed stairs,
Where the lights go out suddenly,
And I'm finding myself stumbling.

Don't have enough time to wander the city,
I'll be home by the time it's dark,
Cause I don't care except when you're calling me,
Please don't talk to me like that.

This is my chrome golden lair,
Under heaven's blessed stairs,
Where the lights go out suddenly,
And I'm finding myself stumbling.

Take a moment to remember,
Our coffee date in November,
The spark of a thought-lost ember,
In December, hold me tender.

Calligraphy note left neat on my chest,
Made me forget all about the rest,
I cannot believe that I'm not a pest,
Something of a strange little mess.

Don't forget we looked at the stars,
From inside of a cold foggy car,
Our toes so cold and so far,
I had to say that you got my heart.

Take a moment to remember,
Our coffee date in November,
The spark of a thought lost ember,
In December, hold me tender.

Calligraphy note, in my sketch book,
Every so often I'll take a look,
You're my love,
My dear,
The one who holds the hook.

And they're cunning in their ways,
They're not absent-minded plays,
Cause they'll get what they want,
Even if it means you've got to rot.

And what happens when the immortal is killed?
Where does the ghost stay when he's forgotten?
When does the tyranny fall at the hands of the innocent?
Why is everyone so angry at everybody?

Memories left to produce mold,
Power that a dictator will hold,
Jump to the creek and cry out, "please"
"Whoever will I be?"

And what happens when the immortal is killed?
Where does the ghost stay when he's forgotten?
When does the tyranny fall at the hands of the innocent?
Why is everyone so angry at everybody?

Show me where I began,
Now show me where I end,
I can't feel anything but the breathing,
It's rolling over my own shoulders,
Blades penetrate my ****** eyes.

Up down, round my stem,
Carve me up, carve me out,
In, out, scoop my guts,
Carve me up, carve me out.

I'm sitting on an abandoned fender,
Out on your front porch, I'm bending.
You're letting me see what it means to be,
All up inside all the misery that you feel inside,
Throw me away when my time comes nigh.

I hope that everything I know,
Will be turned into the snow,
To melt away into the gutter with my sorrow.

And if I'm able to face my soul,
Without wondering when I'll take a toll..

Tumbling down is skilled if anything,
So break my toes from the inside.

Everybody understands it except you,
Or maybe nobody really understands and you're just a lost soul like me.

Don't you dare call me cause you're just a *****,
Well, all I really do is doubt you.