Terse history vibrated through my mind makings

In the fashion of wigged baroques I stoke a fired that filled my hearth

In the dead of night I unearthed true passion from skulls of dead families

It brought me to me knees when I saw silver on their neck

I wrecked coffins with my brain, i stained what life made good

But then I understood
Standing in the rain

I abstained from stealing
From stabbing myself with drugs that I was dealing

Alone in pain, I strained from feeling

I feel the dead, a well read infected sore.
I can feel now, I can adore.