I dance to the rhythm of the day I will die
The faint heartbeat in my fingertips
And the gashes on my thighs
Ive been turning transparent for a year and a half
What's the point of holding things together
When I already know my solidity won't last
I have a steady heart that pumps ghosts through my veins
My soul is the dark side of the moon
And there's stinging nettle in my brain
Stay healthy, grown-ups say,
You are what you eat
So I guess I'm made of suicide notes
And whispers of defeat
Try a new perspective, look at life in a different light
I try, only to find black dirt
Dying stars
Crumbling coal
And high tides