Drip,
drip,
drop.
Pawn to E6;
die for your Queen.
Lift your head and
I'll lift my spirits,
but only as long as my
hands stay clean.
You're worried about the
future?
I'm worried about the past.
I'm scared of what
maybe
might've
couldn't last.
Beep,
beep,
bang.
Is it still just a word
if I know what it means?
Would the ground disappear if I
told it to scream?
By the works of my hand, I'll
fix this broken wagon,
hop on the train to
Never-Never Land.
Tick,
tick,
tock.
You think happiness sits at my doorstep?
You think I didn't work for this?
I can't help but cry when I see
you bleeding out;
the muscle that kept you alive for so long
is killing you with each
decisive pump.
It's not worth fighting for.
It's not a dream anymore.
It's not like holding your breath in a room
full of silence;
it's going to kiss & tell,
like in old folk-lore.
Snip,
snip,
snap.
Queen to E6,
kill the pool boy you
slept with so many times.
I fell in love with twins and
I kissed them simultaneously;
their love was sweet and our ties were thin,
their breath together was
like heroin,
and I never counted how many
shots I did.
I want to
drip,
drip,
drop
my ties;
I want to know what I can fix.
Queen kills pawn
at E6,
the murder in her eyes - like a lover's
dismiss.