Heavy engines, barely keep down my own weight.
Crooked eyes. What's a world if not being seen anywhere straight.

Fate a blanket covering my insecurities,
Twisted thoughts as the whole world is ******* with me.

Like fools gold it's nothing of worth,
When everything you try to do has nothing of your own labours of work.

Faith is time waiting on something to happen.
Finding a route to the solution without any of the mapping.

Love is game with complicated rules,
Doing loads of work, acting like complete tools.
Love sicken people looking only like fools.

Reality is an arrow to the chest,
A point of what is really happening in the world, leaving your soul distressed.

Like drinking on a drink stronger than chlorine,
Drunk men wishing to wipe the memory of life all away. Completely clean.

Heavy engines, trying to hold down the weight.
What is love without any of the fate.
What is looking at faith when everything seen is constantly not looking straight.

And what is reality without it not making a sharp point through your soul.

Black thoughts of a mind dying out like an old lump of coal.