I strum a chord on an old guitar
I look out and see one old man at the bar
It’s quite common for no one to be here
That’s become one of my fears

After the show, the man looked into my eyes
As if he was feeding from all my lies
He asked if I could do no better
Then he left me with a letter

The letter contained every detail of my life
It even described me dying to a knife
But it can’t be real, it just doesn’t sit well
Could this really be hell?

When I look in the mirror, my bodies on fire
My eyes burn in tune with desire
Yet when I step away, the flames extinguish
And I’m left only in pain and anguish

Then I awake from the same fever dream
In hopes of learning what it means
So, I pick up a guitar and play a track
But I feel a sharp pain, as I fall, with a knife lodged in my back