I take it your love was eternally broken
when your hand crosses faith like the cards on the wall.
I could tell when your words were eternally spoken
like the truth that is blamed for the names that I call.

Does it help you to know that we’re already dying?
Does it help you to know that my last skin has shed?
When the world hasn’t known that you’re already lying
with your face to the wall and a hole in your head.

I cannot believe that my last chance was taken
by people who breathe with their hands in their mouths.
When the total survivors were lost and forsaken
Don’t you leave them alone to be broken and bound.