This is your candle to burn,
The wax you long to flux?
You will this wick to blaze?
Then light our match with your crux

I'm a wise owl in sheep in wolf's clothing
Interpreting every cautious move made running with the pack
And you're exactly what you appear to be
You're ghostly traits just as transparent from the back
I am the pretentious walking dead man
Far too good for my own rotting flesh
I guess thats just the way she goes
down
Like any devil in a blood red dress
Last call only tends to last a little while
Until another bitter day calls for a God forsaken night
I am the self-forgetten first born
Passing lessons down after making no first decisions right
I've been on top of the town
Still wet from arctic lengths of time trapped under ice
I keep a hold of others' darkest secrets
ruling this game of thrones and still playing it nice
I'm a king in beggars clothing
I have everything I need and no reason to boast
I don't find joy in you're possessions
salvation found in being no one is a reason to coast
You've lost the fire that kept your spirits up
and have become another mindless ******* bore
when we're old and reacquainted
I'd like to see you convince me that I haven't lived more

"When they unearth these passages
will I appear to be proud?
Not if you're listening close enough.
Not if you're sounding it out."