Killer emotions about killers killing people
while I sing a pretty song about love.
I am not the only preacher in the steeple
to a God that doesn't reside above.
The voices tell me I am powerful.
That there are people who deserve to die.
The blood tastes sour. Full
of disease and monoxide.
Can you hear when the fire pops?
Can you see when the vein explodes?
Can my thoughts border on sublime?
Can my voice continue to lie?
Struggle
Struggle
Struggle
Struggle
Can you hear when the fire pops?
Can you see when the vein explodes?
Can my thoughts border on sublime?
Can my voice continue to lie?
Hurt you
Hurt you
Hurt you
Hurt you
Stop...