buried beneath the surface, something ugly to arise
a demon yelling fuck you at the someone they despise
this demon and this person, they share a pair of eyes
if they look down all the see is, skinny mirrored thighs
all too soon i feel like, anger will arise,
thrice the average wingspan, a vulture takes the skies
this vulture has no allies, he bites as a reply,
all he feels is panic, steals my face for a disguise,
a dog somewhere is barking, teeth dripping as he cries
the growl he hears inside him, he cannot recognize,
halfway catatonic, halfway energized,
his breathing has no breath in it, now he´s paralyzed
those blackened hands are shaking, those blackened hands are mine
he claws away for hours, the sands are grains of time
each second on the fingers dissolve to the sublime
the blackened hands are shaking, the blackened hands resign
over and over a cycle, eight hours turn to nine,
i walk and talk in loops i met the devil, bitch got me to sign
might get to spit in his face and slavery decline
no god and fuck all master, i attempt to kick the vice
for every moment i cling stuck, i see fufilled a certain price
to visualize and execute, no fucker rolls no dice
no way this dog can claim back no otiose spent nights
claiming the ones to come however many materialize
old habits are a fuck to kill, unified and interwined
a tangle to get out of, gets hard to breathe or try
i walk and talk in circles, i dont want to go outside
watch time burn up ignited, too fast to say goodbye
so shameful i regret it, unavoidable to cry
impossible to tell apart, dont try calling, wont reply
a shard of glass refusing to drip, bleeding tear duct turning wry
i saw a demon in the rearview, now he eats my goddamn eyes
over and over a cycle, eight hours turn to nine,
talking in loops to the devil, bitch got me to sign
i count the tips of fingers, they add up, more than five,
each stinging with a shameful tint, all ringing sharp like knives
do you know how fear behaves, do you know where that bitch hides
risen from deep down center front, corrodes from the inside
obscure greyness misty haze, the eye is the organ of sight
the tongue is for the tasting bits, the brain is made for flight