Untying my shoes Is a ritual Where I bake my cement And stick my hand in it Maybe someday A detective will come To investigate my death And find my fingerprints Trace my blood back To the bedroom where I sit Listening to indie music From my own lungs Twisted in the sheets Hanging from the ceiling Like an athletic ****** angel And mayhap If I'm lucky My body will end up In some museum Where lavendar doesn't Know how to burn I can read me to sleep And I'll have witches In my dreams They can cast hexes on me So pedestriannly I will swing Like a demon From your sewing machine I'll sing at the screening Like a rogue banshee When they lay me down For my eternal sleep I'll put my fingers up Just the two In a farewell salute Before I'm nailed in To meet all my new friends They might eat my eyes But they're still better than you
I don't know what the everloving **** this is other than a massive mood.