I paint the walls with the tar from your lungs.  And kick out the chair from beneath me.  Heres a moment where **** collides into beauty.  Where oxygen isn't needed to fill me.  And time becomes precious for now it's pretty.  A still life set in each room, flashing lights for exposure.  

What a fun disaster.  Eyes meant to burn, from each turn you take.  Scream as you may I am scarring your mind with this blade. You are trapped in an amusement park of red and white gowns. Not even clowns are this scary.  ******* run away but you better get used to staying.  And sow a smile on that face, because the doors are locked, forever.

So your eyes better be black soon or u won't have a soul left, to drag, home.  And here comes the minister, to marry u to this disaster.  A trap door set for victims that get pain out of pleasure.  Pain out of ******* pleasure.  To much ******* pain.  

So I paint the walls with the tar from your lungs.  And kick out the chair from beneath.  Heres a moment where **** is pretty.  So **** your life, this is your home now.  Get use to being dead on display.